Blood In The Water
by imoosedup
Summary: Dean has lived on the island of Carthage all his life, he is more likely to be found on his boat or on the beach working on his boat. He has his life put in little boxes, that of life on the island, and life outside of it. A bleeding man on his beach does not fit in either box.
1. Chapter 1

When you live on Carthage Island your life is dictated by the sea. You are forced to obey the tide, or else be thrown against the rocks. You are at the mercy of a thing that is greater than you, a thing that does not care if you live or die. The sea is a fickle thing, one moment it can be as calm for as far as the eye can see, and the next you can be tossed about the waves as children might toss about a ball.

Dean Winchester loved the sea, he worked as a fisherman, a dangerous occupation. Fishermen were rare on the island, since very few men wished to risk their lives along the shores in hope of a good catch. They would rather risk their land by farming it.

Dean was one of the better fishermen on the island; he almost never landed without some sort of catch. He would keep the best of it for himself and his brother and trade the rest in the village for the things he couldn't get or make himself.

Dean was lying on his back, his eyes closed against the sun that beat down on his skin. His boat rocked as waves beat against it. Dean had helped his father build this boat many years ago; he had still been young enough that his father hadn't felt the need to tell him how his mother had died. Still young enough for his father to act like a father to him, instead of a superior officer.

He loved lying in the sun while waiting for the fish to bite. Feeling it warm his skin as he dozed on his back. Dean had freckles all over because of all the time he spent in the sun, the years he had spent getting burned by the sun were long gone, he now had a golden tan that never quite went away. His brother Sam had drilled it in his head to at least put sunscreen on. Dean hated the feeling of the oily coating on his skin, but Sam had this sixth sense about it, so every hour or so Dean would grumble his way through another coat of the stuff.

Dean felt the pole twitch against his ankle. He had set a few fishing lines up today, it wasn't the right time of year for nets just yet. He sat up, momentarily blinded by the bright sun. His fishing pole was beginning to bend under the weight of its catch. Dean smiled to himself, and here he was thinking it was high time to bring it in and go home.

He grabbed it and began reeling it in; feeling the fish fight him as he slowly pulled it to its death. That usually meant it was going to be a good dinner for him and Sam. The line got pulled viciously, dragging Dean forward. Dean fell against the edge of the boat, the wood digging into his chest. He kept his grip on the fishing pole; it had been drilled into him as a child to always keep a hold on the fishing pole. Keeping your grip and letting go could mean the difference between a full stomach and an empty one.

The line went slack, the fish had gotten away.

"God dammit," Dean growled. He reeled the line in slowly, no need to rush anymore. He heard a bark behind him. He turned to see a seal with its head above the water. Dean cursed, he hated seals. They would eat his bait and anything that happened to be on the line. It dipped its dark head below the water for a moment before surfacing again.

It let out a series of barks then, and Dean would swear later on that it was laughing at him.

"Fuck you too," Dean glared at the animal. It let out another bark, louder than the rest. Dean turned back to the job of putting away his fishing poles, putting them gently along the floor of his boat so that the lines wouldn't tangle. He glanced over the side, the seal was still there. Its head was cocked to the side as he watched him go about his work, its blue eyes followed Dean's every movement. Dean had never seen a seal with blue eyes before, it blinked slowly at Dean. Dean shook himself and got back to work.

It was starting to weird Dean out just a little. Did it want what little Dean had caught that day? Why didn't it just swim away like a normal animal? It just stayed there, swimming lazily along the side of his boat. It didn't leave until Dean stuck the oars over the side and began rowing back to shore. Only then did it dip beneath the waves and swim away.

Dean forgot about the seal as he rowed back to shore, there wasn't enough wind to put his sail up, and using it this close to shore was dangerous on the best of days. You had to go slowly when approaching the island, rocks above and below the water surrounded the few bays on the island. You had to be on the lookout for anything that might capsize you boat.

Dean knew this particular bay the best, he had rowed through it with his Dad as a child, and he had kept using it once his Dad was gone. Push an oar deep into the water, push off a rock, and let the water do the work for you. He knew the way like he knew the back of his hand; he knew it almost as well as he knew Sam, and he knew the kid pretty damn well.

The bay was small, not used by the other islanders because it was so hard to get in and out of. It had a beach of small pebbles instead of sand, making it slightly painful to walk on. Dean hopped out of his small boat when the water was waist high; he pulled the boat in the rest of the way. He pulled it onto the beach, leaving it well above water level. Dean wasn't planning on losing his boat to high tide. Once his boat was secured Dean started the walk back to his house, with the few fish he had managed to catch.

The island of Carthage had cliffs, lots of them. You couldn't reach the sea without climbing down one. Dean and Sam lived in a cabin above the bay where Dean set off almost every day to fish. A path crisscrossed along the wall of the cliff, it was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, it was worn down by the many feet that had climbed it over the years.

Dean had made the climb many times, first with both his parents, than with his Dad, now he made it alone. Sam had never fished with Dean, he got horribly sea sick the one time he had gotten in a boat.

The cabin where they lived was an hour's walk away from the village, just the way Dean liked it. His grandfather had built the cabin when Dean's father was a kid; they had just moved to the island and didn't want to be a part of the village.

It was a nicely sized cabin, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room where everything was done, from reading to fixing appliances. Dean and Sam had shared one room for most of their childhood; they only stopped when Dean started crashing on the couch in the living room after he had spent the day fishing. Too tired to make it all the way into the room he shared with Sam.

Sam didn't fish with Dean for a living, so instead he carved. He made furniture for the villagers and did repair work for anyone who needed them. There wasn't a woodworker on the island that was as talented as Sam, and that meant that Sam had a pretty good business on his hands. He kept a corner in the living room just for the things he had finished for the most part. Sam and Dean had made a shack for the bigger projects and the things that needed more work.

Dean loved the cabin; it was where he and Sam had been raised. It was home in a way nothing else would be. It was the place setting for most of the memories with his mother, at least the better ones anyway.

Dean put the bucket on the table. Sam looked up from his book, sparing a glance at the bucket he asked. "Small catch today?" Dean nodded, he reached in and grabbed a fish, they needed to be gutted quickly before he could store them away for later. It was never a pleasant task, but with Sam's help it usually went by quickly.

They got to work cutting into the fish in silence. There were only three of them, all pretty good sizes, they would've fetched a good price in the market, but they were running low on their personal supply. They were keeping this for themselves.

"So, I went into the village today," Sam began.

"Did you get any more orders?" Dean cut through the last fish as Sam put away the already gutted fish.

"No, but I saw Lisa." Sam was many things, but subtle was not one of them. He had been trying to talk to Dean about her for the last three months, but he hadn't been able to get a word from him.

"Well of course you did," Dean looked up from his hands. "Did you also drink tea and braid each other's hair?" Sam sighed, a quick gust that told Dean that he thought Dean was acting childish. So what if he was? Dean had earned the right to be childish now and then.

"Will you just talk to me, what's so wrong about Lisa? She's nice, and funny." Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the fridge. They had a generator at the back of the cabin. They stocked up on fuel every time the boat came to Carthage.

"There's nothing wrong with Lisa, I just have no interest in Lisa." Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean cut him off. "No, you are not going to play matchmaker with me, Sam. I'm serious, and I don't care if you think I'm going to die alone."

"Dean, it's not about dying alone," Sam pulled the puppy eyes out. Dean avoided his gaze, he was a sucker for those eyes and Sam knew it. "I just want you to be happy."

Dean sighed, he was starting to get a headache. He tossed the knife on the table. "I am happy, Sammy. Why don't you get that?" He walked to the sink and washed his hands.

"You're not happy Dean, you're content. There's a difference," Sam said quietly. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm trying Sam, just, leave it alone." He turned to face Sam, his brother nodded. Dean could tell that he wasn't really going to let it go anytime soon, but he at least had a reprieve for now.

"C'mon, we better cook something fast before it gets too late," Dean said with a pasted on smile.

_Blood in the water, it was all around him, where was it coming from? Oh, it was coming from him, he was bleeding in the water. Castiel's flesh was ripped, if he stayed in the water he would die. If he stayed in this form he would die. He needed to get away, he needed to get to land, it was his only hope. Gabriel was gone, lost in the fray. He had lost his brother in the blood that swirled around his head._

_ Teeth clamped around his body, tearing it in an excruciatingly painful way. The creature had come from the deep, they didn't stray this close to the surface unless they were hungry. This one was starving. The creature was ripped away from Castiel; Gabriel had not been lost after all. He had been trying to save Castiel. _

_ Castiel swam away, his blood leaving a trail for the creature to follow. It was too busy defending itself from Gabriel though. Castiel knew he would be alright, or at least he hoped so. Gabriel was quicker than he looked, able to outswim the creature if he put his mind to it. He would be all right; he had to be all right._

_ Castiel broke the surface, blowing water from his nose. An island was ahead of him, he could make it if he pushed himself, and he needed to get out of the water now. He was attracting predators to him with every drop of blood. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he swam. His flippers flailed in the water, lacking their usual grace, one of them had been badly damaged by the creature. _

_ Rocks scraped at his sides, Castiel was having trouble swimming straight. He started shifting once he felt pebbles scrape against his stomach. His first skin loosened as the second skin took shape underneath. His flippers lengthened, shucking off the fur as his arms and legs took their place. His seal skin fell off his shoulders, leaving his head free of its weight. For one moment he was just an uninjured human, able to walk away from the monstrosity that had happened to him. Then his skin ripped apart, the injuries carried over from his other form, leaving him breathless and in pain._

_ Castiel crawled on his hands and knees' getting out of the water, his leg wasn't working right, it hurt to drag it along after him. He collapsed on the beach, pebbles scraping against his flesh, digging their way into his wounds._

_ He was losing too much blood, switching forms had only been a temporary solution, he was now wounded in both forms, and there didn't seem to be any help coming for him anytime soon. Castiel's breathing hitched. He would never know if Gabriel was okay or not now, he was going to die in his human form, all alone on a deserted beach._

_ Blackness swept over him slowly, starting at the edge of his vision before it completely took over. The second to last thing Castiel saw before he lost consciousness was a boat on the edge of his periphery, the last thing he saw was a bobbing beam of light and a pair of feet running towards him._

* * *

A/N

This popped into my head one day and I haven't been able to shake it ever since. This just goes to show that sometimes I just have a little to much time on my hands.

I'm planning on updating this only once a week, I want to make sure that the chapters are nice and actually really done. So that's my reasoning anyways.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

Okay, I'm starting the one week update now, because I kinda just hit 8,000 words on this thing, and I'm only on the third chapter!

I feel so professional almost, expect this is fan fiction and I'm not getting paid for it. Okay, squealing done.

**Important, read this before you start!**

This is slightly more graphic than anything I've written before (meaning I describe icky things.)

There is blood and sewing and a plethora of other things. If you find that stuff gross I suggest waiting a week for the new chapter, there will be a slightly lesser amount of ick then.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Dean had left the cabin early in the morning like he always did. It was still dark out, he had a flashlight with him, he didn't really want to use it, battery's never lasted until the boat from the mainland came, but he would always try and drag the life out of them for as long as possible. He didn't turn on the light until he came to the path down to the beach. His father had always told him to look at the path as he walked down it, he might fall if he didn't bother looking.

Dean used the first few hours of the day to get his equipment ready, getting his boat ready for sitting on the sea all day and untangling his fishing lines, no matter how he set them the day before they were always tangled by the time he went down the next day.

Dean was about to turn the light off when the beam caught something on the beach. The waves rarely tossed anything up on the ground here, they would get caught up in the rocks surrounding the bay, which meant it there was always more debris he had to dodge every time he left and entered the bay.

At first Dean thought it was a piece of driftwood, something that had been lucky to make it through the rocks and crash upon the shore, but it was too far up on the shore for it to be that. Dean let his flashlight travel up the shape. The cogs in Dean's brain meshed together, finally putting together what he was seeing in one single understandable image.

That wasn't a piece of driftwood, it was a body, a person had washed up on his shore. It took Dean a minute to realize that there was blood on the body, it took him seconds to start running toward it, flashlight bobbing as he went.

Dean skidded to a stop, pebbles spraying as he dropped to his knees. Dean could see now that the person was a man, and wrapped in a seal's skin. He pushed him over, rolling him onto his back, and got an eye full of naked man flesh.

_Focus Winchester. _ He thought. The guy was covered in blood. It was dried in some places but it still seeped slowly from the wounds on his sides. There was something wrong with his left leg, it was covered in blood, and _twisted. _Dean felt at the guy's neck for a pulse. It was weak but still there. Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or pity the guy, he had to be in pain.

Dean carefully picked him up, seal skin and all, ignoring the pained grunts the man made. He was heavier than Dean had expected, he stumbled under the weight as he stood. The guy was shifting in his arms, making his wounds widen and blood to spill onto Dean's shirt.

Dean would never be able to remember quite how he got back to the cabin; he would recall the pained breathes coming from the man in his arms as Dean jostled him as he walked. He would remember a sense of panic and urgency, and he would remember the flashlight bobbing in the hand that held the man's legs up.

Dean kicked open the door, yelling for Sam to get out of bed and help him. Sam stumbled out of his room, and stopped at the sight in front of him. Dean with his arms full of an unconscious man, blood dripping from his wounds, Sam swallowed before he went to grab the emergency kit.

"Put him on the floor," Sam ordered when he came back. He opened the bag and took out gauze, a spool of thread and a needle.

Dean set the man down, and carefully removing the seal skin he tossed it at Sam and grabbed the needle and thread.

It took him three tries to get the thread through the eye of the needle. Sam worked at cleaning the man's wounds as best he could, he didn't like the look of the wounds. It looked like something had chewed on him and spit him back out.

Dean splayed his fingers along one of the jagged tears in the man's skin; his hand stilled when the guy's hand grasped his wrist.

"W-what are you doing?" Dean jumped at the sound of the guy's voice, it sounded hoarse, like it hadn't been used in years. The man's breathe hitched as Sam carefully wiped down his side.

"We're trying to help you," Dean explained. "Hold still, this is gonna hurt like a bitch and moving won't help that." The man nodded before letting go and closing his eyes. Dean waited a moment before making the first stitch. The man didn't even twitch, he had passed out. Dean tried not to think about how that was a good thing.

"Dean, we need to get Bobby," Sam said. He had finally gotten to the man's leg. Dean glanced up at Sam; his face was green as he gazed down at the mangled leg before him.

"We don't have time, we'll get him later." Push through the skin, pull the needle out, tug the thread tight. He focused on the task at hand; he needed to keep stitching so that the guy wouldn't bleed out on his floor.

"Dean, we're in over our heads. We need to get Bobby," Sam used his firm tone. That forced to Dean look up from the work at hand and see what he was talking about.

Oh.

While the man's torso looked bad, the leg was worse.

When Sam and Dean were still young, their Dad had been repairing the roof, Sam had been outside when he had slipped and fallen off of it. He had landed on his leg and had broken it. Luckily for him Bobby had been visiting, he had set it and bound it so that John wouldn't make it worse.

That was when Bobby decided that Sam and Dean would get first aid lessons, which turned into more advanced lessons when they got older. Living an hour away from the village might have the perk of being quiet and out of the way, but it left you alone when you needed help.

Sam and Dean looked at the leg before them, it was broken. It was broken in a way that they weren't sure how to deal with. They were good at the general first aid, stitching cuts and setting dislocated shoulders. Broken bones though, were a different matter, and they didn't want to risk setting it wrong.

"Go get Bobby," Dean ordered. Sam nodded; he squeezed Dean's shoulder as he left.

Dean went back to work, getting lost in the familiar motions of stitching. He sat back after he cut the thread after he made the last knot, the black stitches ran over the man's torso. Crisscrossing and connecting with each line. How he hadn't died Dean would never know, but he was lucky to have lived this long.

Dean grabbed a wet cloth that had been lying on the floor; Sam must have left it there before he went to get Bobby.

He gently wiped down the stitches, cleaning off the blood that had dried there. He could only wait for Sam to come back with Bobby now.

The cabin was quiet, with only the unconscious man's quick breathing as the only thing for Dean to hear.

Finally, after hours Dean could hear footsteps outside the cabin. He got up from his place on the floor and opened the door before Sam could reach for the knob. He stepped back to let them both through, the sky was now light, somewhere between stitching the guy up and sending Sam for Bobby the sun had risen.

Bobby Singer looked at the man lying on the middle of their living room floor.

"Your stitching's getting neater," was the first thing he said to Dean. He took the baseball hat from his head and kneeled next to the broken leg.

Bobby ran his fingers over the leg, feeling the point where it broke, he nodded to himself.

"Sam, Dean, you're gonna have to hold him down. If he wakes up now it ain't gonna be good."

Sam and Dean took their places on both sides of the man, placing one hand each on his shoulder and side. Taking care not touch or drag on his stitches.

Dean nodded to Bobby, "We're ready, get on with it." Bobby waited one moment more before jerking his hands and setting the bone.

The man twitched under Dean's hands, but other than that he didn't move or make a sound. Bobby leaned back, resting his hands on his thighs.

"I'm gonna need sticks, sturdy ones, and something to tie them to his leg with." Sam went to get what Bobby wanted, Bobby turned to Dean, now was the time for answers.

"What the hell are you doing with a naked man on your floor?" Bobby wasn't known for beating around the bush, Dean tried not to hold that against him.

"You should ask the guy what he was doing on the beach. And he wasn't completely naked, he was wearing a seal skin," Dean defended. He did not want to think about what Bobby would say about the naked man later on, it wouldn't be good.

"He was wearing what?" Bobby squinted and Dean.

Dean shrugged, "He was wearing a seal skin, you know, the stuff seals wear over their bodies to keep the organs in."

Bobby was silent; he ran a hand over his mouth as he looked down at the man lying before him. Sam came back with the supplies; Bobby bound the leg, he was careful not to jostle the leg too much. He made the splint with practiced motions, years of practical use showed in his work.

"You're going to have to move him now," Bobby said as he stood. "Unless you want the injured man to lie on your floor."

"Where's he going to sleep? I don't think the couch is long enough," Sam said, he gazed at the couch, judging its length.

"He can have my bed, I'll sleep on the couch," Dean offered.

"Don't just say he can have your bed, put him on it." Bobby waved at them to get a move on.

It was going to take some careful maneuvering to get him inside Dean's room. Dean lifted him by his arms and Sam by his legs. Sam did his best not to ruin Bobby's work on the leg but he couldn't stop jostling it a little. They felt the man stiffen in their hands as they walked the short way to Dean's room. They set him down gently, Dean sticking a pillow under his head and throwing a blanket over him.

Sam and Dean stood back then, throughout the whole ordeal of moving him the man hadn't woken up. Bobby called them back into the living room.

Dean looked at the living room, really looked at it, for the first time since he had carried in the bleeding man. Blood was on the floor in small pools, they dragged his eyes toward them and kept him staring until Sam placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You all right, Dean?" he asked, the puppy eyes were out again.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Dean knocked the hand away and looked over at Bobby. He was over the invisible line that divided the kitchen from the living room, the bloody seal skin in his hands.

"This is what you found him in?" Bobby held it up all Sam and Dean to see, the skin was as ripped as the flesh of the man. Dean grimaced.

"How did he even survive that?" Sam took a corner of the skin and ran his fingers over it.

"I don't know, but he's one lucky bastard that he did." Sam let go as Bobby started to roll up the skin. He tucked the skin under his arm, crossing his arms so it would be at least a little hidden from sight.

"Are you going to come back and take the guy later?" Dean asked, he tried not to sound too hopeful.

"You kidding me? We can't move that man until he at least wakes up, and then his leg needs to heal some more before he can even walk. You're stuck with him for a while yet." Bobby put his baseball hat on. He turned toward the door; he stopped with his hand on the knob. "Make sure you bandage his stitches, if he wakes up try and get some answers from him. And try not to be an idjit to him, all right Dean?"

"Why do you always think I'm going to do something stupid?" Dean glared at Bobby with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Because it's always you, you're the one who found him, and you're the one who volunteered your bed. Now, tell me if that don't sound stupid to you." Bobby waited for Dean to say something. "That's what I thought. Make sure you keep him warm, and get some information once he wakes up." Bobby left without another word, he had never been one for goodbyes, and neither were Sam and Dean.

"Do you want to take the first watch, or should I?" Sam asked as they watched the shut door.

"I woke you up with some bleeding dude, you should get some sleep." Sam opened his mouth to say something but Dean just pushed him towards his room. "I mean it; I'll take the first watch."

"Fine, call me if you need help." Sam took one more look at Dean before heading into his room.

_How long had it been since he had used this voice? Months? Years? How long had it been since he had used it in the presence of humans? He had still been so young when he had had his encounter with one. He could barely remember what was said, he could only remember how the girls dark curly hair had caught the breeze, whipping around her face as she grabbed at his seal skin._

_ Then he was lying on a wooden floor, looking up at a man about to pierce his body, to tie it together so it would have a chance to heal. Castiel had spoken to him; he had pushed words from his mouth in a voice he was unfamiliar with. He didn't like his human form, it was confining and liberating, all at once. It was a form he avoided because he was weaker in it. In his first skin, his seal skin, he could get away, disappear into the depths of water that surrounded the island._

_ Castiel had lost himself in the darkness after he spoke to the man. When next he woke, it was on a beach, with Gabriel lying next to him in his human form. Gabriel's human skin was nothing like his seal one. His seal skin was powerful, strong and swift. A body built for hunting._

_ His human form though, was different. Everyone's human form differed from their seal form. Gabriel's though was a form that you couldn't quite get used to. Short and compact, golden eyes and light brown hair, it was usually slicked back to keep it from his eyes._

_ Castiel sat up on his elbows, marveling at the fact he was in this form, hadn't he just been in the sea? He glanced over at Gabriel, he had his arms behind his head and his eyes were closed. Sunbathing, yes, Gabriel loved sunbathing. Castiel looked down at his legs, they were bare. Where was his skin? He glanced all along the beach; it wasn't anywhere he could see._

_ He started to panic then, he couldn't change forms without it. He would be stuck in this human form, taken away from the sea he needed, he couldn't live like that. Castiel opened his mouth, to tell Gabriel about his missing skin. The words wouldn't form though, all that would come out was a drawn out scream. It tore at his throat as it made its way into the silence that surrounded him._

_ "We're trying to help you," Gabriel said. Only it wasn't Gabriel's voice, it was gruffer, deeper. Not at all like the voice Castiel would always remember, the voice his brother never got tired of using. _

_ Castiel tore his eyes away from his bare legs, looking at the spot Gabriel had laid just moments before. The spot was empty, the pebbles weren't even disturbed, it was like he had never been lying there in the first place._

_ Castiel was being shook, he opened his eyes. Hadn't his eyes just been open? Apparently not. A wooden roof was in his line of sight before it was blocked out by a face. It was the man from before._

_ "Shh, it's okay. We're here to help you." It was the voice Gabriel had spoken in. "You need to stop screaming, we can't really do anything about the pain just yet, you understand?" It took Castiel a moment to hear the words, his torso was on fire, he wanted to cut his leg off and just be done with that. He was hot and cold at the same time, Castiel had never felt like that before. His stomach rolled, and acid rose in his throat. He swallowed, not wanting to vomit on the man._

_ "Do you understand me?" The man asked once again. Castiel nodded, and the man's frown softened. He appeared calmer now that Castiel had stopped screaming. "Do you have a name?" He asked. Castiel had to think for a moment, it had been so long since he had formed the word last._

_ "Castiel." There it was again, the surprise at the sound of his voice was familiar, he marveled at the sound of it._

_ "Castiel," The man said, pronouncing it right the first time. Castiel nodded. "My name's Dean, do you remember what happened to you?" Again, Castiel nodded. "Can you tell me?"_

_ Darkness was calling him, he could feel it on the edges of his consciousness, offering him comfort from the pain he was in. Dean had asked him a question though, an important one by the look on his face._

_ "A monster got me," he slurred as sleep claimed him once more._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

Okay, I'm giving up on the entire 'One Update a Week' thing. I was never good at putting things off. Plus, I have like two more chapters after this one written up already, they just need editing before I post them. What am I waiting for anyway? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

So, in honor of Supernatural Tuesday, I give you the next chapter.

One last thing, well almost one last thing. I have never used Valerian root, I just googled it and hoped for the best. I apologize if it's wrong, I tried to make it as accurate as possible.

**There is less ick in this, but there is still some sorta gross stuff. You have been warned.**

* * *

Dean was sleeping when Bobby found him. His feet were propped up on the bed and his head tilted back with his mouth wide open, a heavy snore coming from his throat.

Bobby smacked Dean on the back of his head, jolting him awake.

"Is this how you take care of a man? By sleeping?" Bobby crossed his arms as he glared down at Dean. The man had been lying there for only two days, he had woken up screaming sometime just after dusk on the first day. Dean had gotten his name out of him, the only coherent thing he had said.

Dean took his feet off the bed and placed them gently on the floor. "Are you going to tell me something useful or not?" He rubbed the back of his head dramatically, Bobby smacked him again before setting to work.

Bobby was the closest thing the village had to a doctor, he had showed up on the boat from the mainland years ago and had set up shop there. He never talked about his life on the mainland, avoiding it when people brought it up. He helped when he could and people were grateful, so they didn't pry.

Bobby felt Castiel's forehead, and after he checked his pulse, counting the steady beats of his heart. Castiel muttered incoherently as Bobby's fingers moved over his skin.

"His pulse is good, but he has a fever, which you already knew of course." Bobby moved to check his stitches, lifting the corner of one of the bandages carefully. "His wounds are infected," he said with a sigh. Dean hung his head, Castiel may as well have been handed a death sentence. Bobby had used the last of the antibiotics on Jo, and the boat wasn't coming for another four months. Unless he had a pretty damn good immune system, he was shit outta luck.

"Dean," Bobby placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "If he survived this long he at least has a fighting chance." Dean nodded. "Did he wake up at all?"

"Yeah, scared the shit outta me, woke up screaming. I calmed him down but I couldn't get much out of him except his name." Dean rubbed his eyes, they were sore from lack of sleep. Sam had come in once to take a shift, but Dean had sent him away. Sam had work to do, Dean could stop fishing for a while, but Sam's work had a timeline he had to deal with. Sarah needed a cradle for a kid she was going to have, and Sam was already a little behind on that.

Bobby pulled Dean out of his seat, "Come on, you need some breakfast in you before you tell me anything else." Dean followed him, his shoulders slumped and a headache building behind his eyes.

Dean sat at the kitchen table while Bobby grumbled about the mess in the kitchen as he worked at making them both something to eat.

"What did you say his name was?" Bobby asked as he placed a frying pan on the stove.

"I didn't," Dean replied.

"So I gathered, that was me being nice and trying to get you to tell me." Bobby placed eggs on the counter and a bowl, he started cracking eggs into it. "Now this is me asking you to tell me what the hell his name is."

"Castiel," Dean dragged the name out, making it longer than it had been when Castiel had told him.

"How much sleep have you had? Are you sure that's his name, and not something he coughed out in his sleep?" Bobby looked up from his work at the stove.

"Oh I'm sure, it was the only thing he said that made sense." Dean grunted as he stretched, cracking his back as he did so.

"Huh," said Bobby as he poured the beaten eggs into the pan.

"What now?" Dean groaned.

"What do you mean?"

"With you 'huh' means something," Dean crossed his arms and glared at Bobby. "So, out with it."

"It means huh, that's all 'huh' ever means." Bobby slid a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Dean. Dean stared at it blankly. "Eat it before it cools, ya idjit. You'd think I wouldn't have to tell you that." Bobby turned back to the stove, so he didn't see the face Dean made behind his back.

"Fine, whatever, I don't care anymore." Dean scooped up a spoonful of eggs. "Did you bring anything to help with his pain?" Bobby nodded and pulled a packet out of his shirt pocket.

"Valerian root tea, it has some other things that should help, but the valerian root should help with the pain mostly." He set the packet down in front of Dean.

"Seriously Bobby, tea?" Dean made a face at it.

"Don't turn your nose up at it, it helps and that's all that matters." Dean nodded, he got up from his seat and set a pot of water on the stove. May as well start it now, Castiel was in pain, it didn't seem right just to let him stay that way.

"He needs to have his bandages changed, I'll hold him up while you do that." Bobby leaned against the counter. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean said shortly. First Sam and now Bobby, when will they just give up?

"I didn't ask if you were fine, I asked how you were doing. Was that the first bit of sleep you had since he got here?" Dean nodded as he watched the water begin to bubble. "And you haven't been out to that damned boat since then either, right?" Nod. "You know you can let Sam take care of the guy, right?" Shrug. Bobby sighed. "God save me from idjits like you."

"Ah don't say that, without me think how boring your life would be." Dean smirked at Bobby.

"You're getting peaceful and boring mixed up again son."

They stood silently as the tea steeped. Dean winced at the smell, it was like someone had shoved Sam's sweaty socks in his face and just kept them there. Disgusting.

"Are you sure this'll help him?" Dean made a face at the tea.

"It'll help him a lot more if he actually drinks it." Bobby handed the cup to Dean, they headed into his darkened bedroom. The curtains had been drawn tight, only a line of sunlight creeping in at the seam where they met.

Castiel was lying on the bed before them, the blanket drawn up over his chest. Dean, with the help of Sam, had gotten a pair of sweat pants onto him. That hadn't been a pleasant experience, getting an unconscious man into pants is something Dean does not want to ever do again.

Castiel had talked through the entire time, talking to some guy named Gabriel. It was mostly garbled, but a few words that Dean did understand didn't make sense, so he filed them away to think about later. Hopefully when the guy was awake Dean would get the chance to talk to him about it.

Dean set the tea on his night stand, he gently sat down next to Castiel and raised him up, cradling his shoulders in the crook of his arm, Castiel's head lolled to the side. The sweat on his forehead glistening in the low light, Dean could feel the heat from Castiel's fever soaking into his arm. Castiel muttered to Gabriel to leave him alone.

Bobby held the tea out for Dean, Dean took it and held it to Castiel's mouth. Castiel waved his hands at it.

"No, Gabriel stop it…" He murmured.

"Come on, you need to drink this," Dean tried to reason with him.

"I'll tell Anna." Castiel's eyes opened a little, but he didn't take in the room, he was seeing something else entirely.

Dean poured a sip into his open mouth, Castiel spluttered but most of it went down his throat. Dean continued pouring in the tea like that until the cup was empty. Castiel was still muttering by the end of the cup but it was less frequent and made even less sense than before.

Bobby helped him change the bandages over the stitches. Dean held Castiel up while Bobby wrapped him in the soft white cotton strips.

Bobby tied off the last strip, he sat back to take a look at his handy work. Dean laid Castiel back down, he had stopped mumbling all together and appeared to be sleeping soundly.

"He should be fine like that," Bobby stood. "I have to head back, I have things to do. Make sure you get some sleep." Dean grunted, and Bobby slapped his shoulder. "I'm serious, Sam can take a shift watching over the guy. Get some rest."

"Sure Bobby, I will. And thanks," Dean looked up at him from his seat.

"Just doing my job boy." Bobby left without another word, he was already thinking about all the work he still had to do in the village.

Dean settled back down in the chair, letting his feet rest on the bed once more. It wasn't long before his head tipped forward and he fell asleep.

When he woke next it was to Sam shaking his shoulder gently. He looked up at his younger brother.

"Dean, you should go lie down, I can sit here for a while." Dean was about to protest but a yawn interrupted him. Sam pulled him from the seat and before Dean knew what had happened he was falling onto the couch in the living room. He felt a blanket settle over him. Dean curled up on the couch, how long had it been since he had slept lying down? Too long. He would regret giving up his bed to a stranger later though, for now he just wanted to sleep.

_The pain had lessoned, he could feel it at the edges of his mind, but it didn't feel like it would drag him down anymore. Only now he felt, heavy. It felt like it took an eternity to open his eyes. The same wooden ceiling was above him, it was lighter than he remembered it being before. There was no Dean blocking most of his vision this time._

_ His hand dragged as he lifted it to his face, it was weighed down by the same force that kept the pain at bay. A hand moved over him, grasping his wrist and stopping his hand from moving any farther._

_ Castiel squinted at the hand, it was large, with calluses covering most of it. It was connected to an arm that disappeared into a plaid flannel shirt. His eyes traveled farther up the arm to the face that was looking down at him. The face had a look of concern on it, hazel eyes wide, eyebrows tilted, and mouth puckering just slightly. His shaggy hair fell around his face as he leaned slightly over Castiel._

_ Castiel's eyes wouldn't keep him in focus, his vision would blur and sharpen. His brain felt like it was being sloshed around in his head. It made his stomach roll. _

_ Oh, this was not good._

_ "Hey? You awake? Like, really awake?" The man asked._

_ No, don't open your mouth, that would be a bad idea at this time. The man was still staring at him. His stomach rolled uncomfortably. There was no stopping it now. _

_ "Move back," was all Castiel could say before he leaned over and vomited on the floor._

_ "Shit!" the man said as he jumped back. Castiel slumped over the side, he felt something on his torso pull painfully, but he couldn't summon the energy to move just yet._

_ "Dean! Get in here!" Hands pressed against his shoulders, keeping him from falling onto the floor and into his vomit. Castiel could hear a stumbling noise from outside the room._

_ "Aw fuck," it was Dean, he sounded upset. There was nothing Castiel could do about that for now._

_ Nauseas rolled over him once more, making him gag and spit on the floor. His stomach was mostly empty, it was just dry heaving now. More warm hands pressed at his burning skin, one felt at his forehead while another moved to his neck feeling the pulse that beat there._

_ No! _

_ Castiel pulled back, getting away from their grasp, his leg protested the movement. _

_ He refused to let them have access to his throat, even in his weakened state he wouldn't die without a fight. Castiel dragged himself into the corner, pressing himself against the wall and tangling his legs in the blanket. He gasped in pain as he moved._

_ The men stared wide eyed at him. The taller one seemed to understand first._

_ "Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you," Dean started at the man's voice. The other one smacked his arm gently. "We only want to make sure you're okay, can we do that?" He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child or a wild animal. _

_ Castiel nodded, "I'm Sam, Dean tells me your name is Castiel, that right?" Castiel nodded again. "I'm going to check your leg, you might have messed up the splint, all right?" Castiel let Sam approach, keeping a careful on him as he looked at the wrap on his leg, he noticed then he was wearing something. Soft pants, the left leg was rolled up to his knee revealing the splint Sam had been talking about._

_ Castiel swallowed back the nauseas, it was easier to control while he was sitting up. Sam's fingers roamed gently over his leg, Castiel could barely feel the pressure as he checked it._

_ "Lucky for you, it's still in good shape," Sam looked up at him with a smile. The smile faltered as Castiel stared him down. "Well, it's as good a shape you might expect it to be after." He trailed off, his faced turned red as Castiel stared at him._

_ "It's kinda creepy when you stare, you know that right?" Dean asked. Castiel turned to look at him then. He had forgotten that he could still speak, that he had the right voice for it, the right mind._

_ "No," his voice, that was his voice! "I did not know it was, creepy." Dean harrumphed at him._

_ "You want help lying back down?" He moved forward, reaching to move Castiel back to his older position._

_ "No," Castiel said quickly. "I'll rest like this." Dean moved back, his hands settling awkwardly at his sides._

_ "All right then, Sammy and I will just get this cleaned up." Castiel nodded. _

_ As they worked he could feel his eyelids drooping, but he couldn't shut his eyes just yet. They were still in the room. He didn't trust them, he couldn't trust them. They were human and unknown, he couldn't let his guard down around them._

_ He did anyway, each blink became longer than the last, until he didn't open his eyes at all. The last thing he heard was Sam speaking._

_ "What are we doing here Dean?"_


	4. Chapter 4

Dean looked back at the now sleeping man, he was still sitting up but his eyes were closed and some of the tension had seep out of him.

"I thought we were taking care of a sick man, but if you think it's something different than I'd like to know." Dean left the room, he heard Sam close the door behind him.

"We are, but I don't know what we're supposed to be doing with him, he's obviously gone through something awful." Sam followed him into the kitchen. "Did you just see him in there? He was terrified of us? How is he even supposed to stay here when he can't even stand to be touched by us?"

Dean began making coffee, he scooped grounds into the press with his back turned to Sam. "Easy, we'll just make sure that he sees nothing to be afraid of."

"And how are we going to do that?" Sam asked, Dean could almost hear the frown in his voice. "We were checking his fucking pulse, Dean. How are we supposed to make sure he's okay if he won't even let us do that?" Dean turned, glaring at Sam.

"You do realize that he just got the chewing out of a lifetime, literally. He might be a little afraid of someone making grabby hands at his throat, you realize that, right?" Sam pursed his lips, but he nodded so Dean went on. "He's also delirious with fever, he doesn't know what he's doing at this point. You can't blame a guy for being sick."

"Can we even take care of him now though? You haven't been out to sea since he got here," Sam pointed an accusing finger at Dean. "You haven't gone to the village to buy or sell anything. Hell, you haven't even left this cabin!"

"You want me to leave the cabin?" Dean moved around Sam, heading towards the front door. "Fine, I'll leave the goddamn cabin." He slammed the door as he heard Sam yell "Dean!" at his back.

Dean stomped away from the cabin, anger bleeding out in every step. By then time he got to the cliff path that ran down to the beach he wasn't sure what he was angry about. He still remembered that Sam had made him mad, he remembered the words Sam had spoken, and how they had managed to irritate him. He just didn't get why they had made him mad in the first place.

It must have been cabin fever, he supposed. Dean couldn't head back to the cabin yet, that would be admitting to Sam that he had had no right to be angry. Something Sam would throw back in his face next time they argued. Besides, Sam did have a point, Dean needed to start fishing again before their supply ran out.

He walked down the path, keeping his eyes on the ground. The wind blew at him, cold and biting. Dean shivered and regretted not bringing a coat. Sam would have a fit if he got sick while out. The rocky beach was silent except for the waves crashing against the shore. Dean had gotten to his boat by the time he realized he hadn't brought any fishing supplies. Not his poles or his bucket, nothing.

"I'm an idiot," he muttered.

Dean climbed into the boat, he might as well make sure his ship was in good shape while he was here.

His boat was his pride and joy. Small and fast when she had a good wind in her sail, he could never bring in as big a haul as some of the other fishers on the island, but what he brought in was some of the best. His Baby could sail around the island, getting to the fishing spots the bigger boats couldn't reach, and the smaller boats wouldn't dare get to. Dean's Dad had taught him long ago that if he took care of his boat, then his boat would take care of him. Dean had taken that saying to heart, making sure she was free of scrapes and that the wood that she was built from was free of rot.

Sam had once said that the only long lasting relationships Dean had ever had was with Sam and Baby. Dean had told Sam to shut up, but secretly he had agreed with him. Dean just couldn't stay around for the long haul when it came to being with someone. He had learned to accept that.

He made a mental list of supplies he would need next time either Sam or him went to the village. More rope, bait, definitely some more thread. His hands did the work they had done since childhood, smoothing this, tightening that, loosening something that had tightened the last time he had gone out. It was mind numbing work, it was work he could get lost in.

The work didn't last as long as he wanted it to, eventually he finished even the busy work that he avoided. Dean was stuck looking at his Baby sitting on the sand in perfect condition, something he loved seeing after working on her, but he was stuck thinking 'Now What?'

Now he had to go back and face the music. Dean didn't think Sam would make much of it, he would've been close by in case Castiel woke up again, he probably had spent the entire time carving in the living room. Or he had spent it reading in Dean's bedroom. Either way Sam would have kept busy.

The walk back seemed shorter than the walk to the beach. In what felt like no time at all he was in front of the cabin again. Dean couldn't hear anything from inside, which was a good thing. It probably meant Castiel was still sleeping, or he had woken up and decided not to scream this time around.

Sam was sitting on the couch, his legs stretched over the arm rest, reading a book. Dean put another mental tally mark in his column, he knew his brother too well.

Sam looked up from his book, he jumped out of his seat, throwing his book back on the couch.

"Dean," He began. Dean held his hand up, stopping Sam in his tracks.

"What do I always say Sammy?"

"Eating nothing but rabbit food is no way to live?" Sam raised his eyebrows, Dean resisted the urge to hit him.

"No, not that one," Dean said, crossing his arms. Sam thought for a moment.

"Never trust a man named Don to be on time?"

"You're doing this on purpose. No chick flick moments. That is what I always say," Dean said.

"You always say a lot of things," Sam smiled. His brother appeared in a better mood after hours spent outside.

"Yeah yeah, how's Castiel? Did he wake up at all?" Dean moved towards his room to check on him.

"No, I gave him more of the tea Bobby left. He didn't even wake up for that." Sam followed him.

Castiel was still sleeping, he sat in the corner of the bed with his chin resting on his chest, Sam had thrown a blanket over him after he had given Castiel the tea. His left leg was stretched out in front of him, the other was curled underneath it.

"Aw, if he isn't just a little angel," Dean murmured with a smirk.

"He's in the closest thing to a drugged sleep as we can get him Dean, if that doesn't make you sleep through the night then I don't know what will." Sam walked into the room, fussing with the blanket on Castiel, tucking in the corners around his leg.

"You're ruining the picture for me, it's not often I get someone to sleep in my bed, besides me that is." Sam shuddered, that was a mental image he would be wiping from his hard drive.

"Thanks for the horrifying picture Dean."

"Anytime Sam," Dean grinned at his younger brother, but it slipped off his face as his glance found Castiel again. "Do you think he'll get through this? That he'll get better?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Sam looked up at Castiel as well, taking in the quick breathes, the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. If you had asked Sam a week ago if Castiel would have survived, he would have told you no. He would have looked at the facts given him, the blood loss, the infection, and the trauma Castiel had gone through, and he would have told you in all honesty that he didn't expect Castiel to survive the trip from the beach to their cabin. He would have been sorry about it, but he wouldn't expect anything less than a quick death for Castiel.

"I don't know, I hope so," his voice was just as quiet as Dean's had been. He heard Dean's shuddering breathe. He didn't look up at Dean, choosing instead to check Castiel's pulse. It was strong, always a good sign.

"I wonder when he'll wake up, you know, for good." Dean said, he sounded more assured now.

"You mean awake for longer than five minutes before falling asleep again?" Sam turned his head towards Dean as he asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, kinda sucks not knowing anything about him, except for his name." Sam agreed. He was just as curious as Dean was. He wanted to know what had done this to Castiel, Dean had told him what Castiel had said when he had woken up the first time. He highly doubted that 'monster' was an accurate description of his attacker.

Dean wasn't so sure, he thought whatever had ripped into Castiel's flesh like that deserved to be called a monster. They had earned that title the moment they had drawn Castiel's blood.

Sam stood, he walked out the door with Dean following him. "Well, there's not much we can do but wait until he wakes up, if he wakes up," he tacked the last words on as an afterthought.

"Yeah, we only have to wait until that happens," Dean agreed.

They had to wait five more days.

_ Castiel woke slowly, he felt better than he had the last few times it had happened, his head was clear for the first time since he had been attacked. His eyelids didn't drag across his eyes, they opened quickly, confident in their ability to do so._

_ The room in front of him didn't warp in front on his eyes, the shadows in the corners stayed there, they didn't move across his vision, blacking out the room as they moved. A good sign. Castiel shook his head, his brain stayed in place there. No sloshing about against the sides of his skull. Also a good sign._

_ Castiel straightened up, his stomach felt empty, he didn't know if that meant he was going to vomit again or if he was just hungry. He hoped it was the latter._

_ He could hear sounds coming from outside his room, it was two men speaking. Sam and Dean, his mind helpfully provided. They were the men who had sewed him back together after he had washed up on the shore. _

_ Castiel looked down at himself, his chest was bandaged, it hurt to move, not terribly, but enough to make him cautious. His leg was held stiffly between two long sticks. Wrapped with soft strips of fabric, Castiel fingered the material. It was well made, better than anything Uriel had ever done. _

_ The voices sounded louder, Castiel ignored them. _

_ His pants, he had never been clothed in anything this soft before. His family had only stuck to the bare necessities when it came to clothing. They usually chose stiff uncomfortable fabric when they had to walk as humans. When Castiel finally got back to them he was going to make sure that they had comfortable clothes._

_ The voices had stopped. Castiel looked up from his inspection of his clothing. Sam and Dean stood in the doorway. Castiel spared Sam only a parting glance as he took in Dean. He had catalogued Sam's appearance once already, he hadn't been well enough to do the same for Dean._

_ Green eyes, a color Castiel had rarely seen on anyone, human or otherwise. Light, light brown hair, it looked like he had ran his hands through it many times, rumpled with odd spikes sticking up. He had a full mouth, unlike Sam's thinner lips. His shoulders were broad, though not as broad as Sam's, shoulders that ran down to a narrow waist. He wasn't as tall as Sam, but Castiel thought Dean would be a just a little taller than him._

_ "Ah, you're not feeling sick are you?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head. "What? Cat got your tongue?" Castiel tilted his head, ignoring the slight headache it caused._

_ "I don't understand, why would a cat have my tongue?" Sam and Dean shared a glance at his words._

_ "It's just a well-known saying, everybody's heard of it," Sam said._

_ "I, I had a secluded childhood." Castiel looked down at his hands. He had never been a good liar, it was one of the reasons he didn't often interact with humans. But that didn't count as a lie, right? His childhood had been secluded, just not in the way that Sam and Dean thought it had._

_ "Right," Sam said slowly. He turned towards Dean, they had a silent conversation filled with head quirks and raised eyebrows._

_ "How secluded?" Dean asked once he was done sharing expressions with Sam. Castiel had no other way to describe it, he had never seen anybody else talk that way._

_ "I have never set foot outside the encampment where my family lives." Look, raised brow, quirked lip, squinted eyes. Castiel drank it all in, staring at them as they held their silent conversation. He had always been a quick learner, and it seemed to him that Sam and Dean weren't happy with what he was saying._

_ "What kind of encampment?" they asked simultaneously. Castiel's eyes widened, Sam and Dean glared at each other._

_ "It's just the place where we lived." Castiel didn't know where on the island he was, he couldn't go giving away his family, not even to these two. "I have a few questions of my own." He asked before Dean could open his mouth again. It seemed only fair to him, these two had had full rein of questions since they had found him. He hadn't even had the chance to ask one of his own, at least, not while he was lucid. _

_ Two more minutes of silent conversation, Castiel was getting tired of not understanding them._

_ "Okay, what do you want to know?" Dean asked. He had won the debate, with a scrunched up nose and a sneer. Sam's pressed lips hadn't even stood a chance._

_ "You found me on the beach, yes?" Dean nodded. "Was, did, did you find anything with me? Something wrapped around me?" Castiel thought he remembered his skin being draped over him, but he hadn't woken up with it near him. He needed it if he ever wanted to be free of his human skin, if he ever wanted to join his family in the sea again._

_ "Yeah," Dean said. Castiel's head jerked toward him, was it too much to hope that his skin was still there? That he could heal this form and go back to the sea?_

_ "You had some sorta skin wrapped around you, I threw it somewhere," Dean shrugged. Castiel tried to keep the excitement and impatience from his face. "I looked for it after we got you fixed up, I couldn't find it anywhere."_

_ It was too much to hope for apparently. Castiel's face fell, Sam watched him for a moment, taking in the way Castiel's fingers fumbled in his lap._

_ "Did you want it for something?" Sam asked him._

_ "Well, it's just." Think dammit, for once in your life lie convincingly! "I would appreciate having it back, it. I just like having it back." Dean shared an odd look with Sam, who shrugged and just gave Dean a 'go ahead' gesture. _

_ "Okay, we'll find it for you," Dean said easily, a smile crossing his features. His face almost glowed as Castiel looked at him. It seemed that they would accept that for now, although Castiel guessed that they would like a better explanation later on. He would deal with that when it came though._

_ For the first time since he had been attacked, possibly even before that, he smiled. Not a big one that spread across his face, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was a small, quiet smile._

_ "Thank you."_

* * *

A/N

We're finally moving along with the plot! Wow, remember when Dean found Cas bleeding on his beach? Man, that was a good chapter...

Reminiscing over now, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! The next one will probably take a few more days to post, I'm not quite happy with it just yet. But it can't be helped really.

Thanks to everyone who left a review, you are special snowflakes who deserve a piece of cake. Hell, take the whole thing! You've earned it!


	5. Chapter 5

Dean rocked back on his heels. He hadn't expected the smile, he had gotten used to the beaten glare that Castiel sent them.

It sat oddly on Castiel's face, his face was drawn, hollow cheeks, with dark circles under his eyes, but then he had smiled and it was like someone had punched Dean in the stomach. Castiel didn't notice but if Sam looked at him now he would. Dean schooled his face into a blank look. By the time that Sam looked at him Dean's face was under control.

They left Castiel soon after. Dean to make lunch for them both, Sam to go to town for some supplies that they needed, he also needed to do laundry while he was there.

Sam and Dean didn't have a washing machine at their cabin, it took up too much fuel, and it was just easier to go to town to get it done then to wash it all by hand. Dean threw a couple extra things in the laundry bag, a big canvas bag with a drawstring. They would have to wash a few extra articles of clothing so that Castiel would have something to wear while he was there.

Dean stopped Sam before he headed down the path to town.

"Here," Dean pressed money into Sam's palm. "Get something nice while you're out, pie if they have it." While Sam and Dean shared most of their earnings, putting it in a jar they kept on a shelf in the living room, but they did have their own money. Money they used for books or different food, things that they didn't usually splurge on. Sam had told Dean years ago that pie was not a necessity, and if he wanted it he would have to pay for it out of his own pocket.

Dean had stopped asking for it every time Sam went in to town, but every now and then he would get Sam to buy it for him.

Sam pocketed the money and promised to get it for him. Dean glared at him, saying that he better not forget it this time.

Sam made his way down the dirt path, he usually made the trip at least once a week. Dean coming with him most times, but with Castiel still hurt and unable to do things by himself, Dean had been forced to stay home. When either one of them made the trek alone, they had to find something to entertain them as they walked. Dean tried to remember all the lyrics to songs. Sam would try and remember the scene from The Princess Bride when the man in black poisoned Vizzini. He could never quite remember all the lines, and that never ceased to frustrate him.

It was a really long walk, and no matter how he tried to distract himself, Sam got bored. He really wished Castiel was well enough for Dean to feel better about leaving him at home. Sam doubted that he would leave Castiel alone anyway, Dean had never been the type to leave people who need help alone, even if they didn't want it.

He kept walking forward, feeling the stretch in his legs as he widened his stride. The island was mostly flat land, rising above the sea in tall cliffs. Trees dotted the landscape in small clumps, blocking the horizon from sight. It wasn't until you got to the center of the island that there even started to be hills.

The village was ten minutes from a cliff that sat above the harbor, a beach that was large enough to have multiple boats moored there. The actual village had a thrown together effect. Houses clumped together with the businesses. All the houses needed at least some sort of work done on them, either superficial or necessary work, Sam would be taking down orders from people there, he would come back later in the week with the right tools.

Bobby lived just outside the village, he was usually left alone unless someone needed him, or when the kids dared each other to knock on Old Man Singer's door. A tradition that Sam and Dean had started when they made visits to the village with their father, the other children had stared on in horror as Dean was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and hauled in the house. Dean hadn't been seen by the kids for at least a month after, when he walked in to the village they had stared at him in silence for a full minute before running away from him. Dean still teased Jo about the fact that she had burst into tears at the sight of him.

Sam walked to the Roadhouse, the only bar on the island. Years ago someone from the mainland had tried to open a bar on the other side of the village. It was closed down after six months, people had refused to go there, mostly because they didn't trust mainlanders unless they had proven themselves helpful like Bobby had.

Sam opened the door and had a rag thrown at his face. It hit him right across his eyes.

"Bulls eye!" Jo crowed from behind the bar counter. She had been wiping it down before the Roadhouse opened.

"I really hate that you got to be a better shot then Dean," Sam grumbled. He pulled the rag away, tossing it back at Jo.

"Oh, you can't stay mad at me Sammy, I'm just all sweet and innocent," Jo shrugged her shoulders, trying and failing to look innocently up at Sam.

"Has anyone ever used those words to describe you?" Sam set his canvas bag onto the counter and leaned across it.

"I think I had a great uncle who did once, but he had dementia so I don't think he counts." Jo reached behind the counter and set a glass in front of Sam. "What'll it be? Water or cold water?"

"What? I don't get a beer?"

"Beer is for paying customers," Ellen walked in from the back room, carrying a broom. She handed it to Jo and pulled Sam into a hug. "Good to see you, you don't come here nearly often enough."

"I come here every week, I thought that was plenty." Sam let go of Ellen, standing up straight as she went to work behind the bar.

"Needing laundry done is not the same as visiting," Ellen eyed the canvas bag. "You owe me a real visit, sitting down for dinner. And yes, you have to bring Dean." Sam rolled his eyes, he grabbed his bag and headed towards the back.

"If you make pie Dean will run here." Sam walked through the back to the attached house. Ellen hadn't always lived at the Roadhouse, but years ago, when she had just been starting out, there had been a string of robberies, and she had taken to sleeping in the back of the bar. Her husband had gotten tired of having her sleep there, he would fall asleep in their house with Ellen next to him, but when he woke she would be gone. So he enlisted John Winchester, Sam and Dean's father, to help him build the attachment.

After Sam had put his laundry in the washer he headed back to the bar. Ellen and Jo were just finishing getting ready to open the bar. Ellen put a sandwich in front of him.

"Eat up, odds are this'll be the best food you've had in a while." She went back to work, setting things up behind the bar.

"I won't deny it," Sam said as he took a bite of the food, heaven, pure and simple.

"So, tell me what's been happening at the cabin." Jo leaned over the counter, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "Has Dean gone crazy yet? Has he jumped off a cliff?"

"Ah, not yet. But you wouldn't believe what happened, it's kinda why I couldn't come to town on the usual day."

Sam told Ellen and Jo about Dean finding Castiel on the beach. Jo took an interest when Sam mentioned he had been naked. Ellen took an interest when he mentioned Bobby had helped them.

"Son of a bitch never said anything," she muttered. Sam shared a grimace with Jo, Bobby was going to have to explain himself to Ellen. And she wouldn't take any of his crap.

They moved on from the subject quickly, Sam didn't even tell them Castiel's name, not thinking that it would be relevant. Ellen told him about a leaky spot on the roof, he promised to come back in a few days to fix it.

"Only if you bring Dean, and this mystery man," Ellen told him.

"He can't really come here, he can't even walk right now," Sam reasoned.

"Then it will wait until he can, I want to see the man who can keep Dean away from his boat for any length of time." Ellen went to the back as the door to the bar opened.

"We're closed," Jo yelled.

"No fair, you let Sammy in here!" The familiar voice called back. Sam turned in his seat to see Loki standing in the open door.

Loki was an odd man, short, with golden eyes, light brown hair he kept slicked back off his forehead. He was a good head shorter than Sam. What he lacked in height he made up for it in stupid jokes and broad smiles.

Sam had known Loki ever since he had started coming to the village with his mother. Loki and Naomi had showed up on the edges of the village one day, trading with the stores that would let them. They had always left soon after, with Naomi tugging hard on Loki's hand. Sam didn't get a chance to speak with him until the third time he had showed up. Naomi had let go of his hand and pointed at a group of children. Telling him to make friends with them, and not to do anything rash, Loki had run right up to Sam and asked Sam to climb a tree with him.

They had started playing together after that, Sam had thought he was an odd kid, still did think that. Loki would just show up one day, at the edge of the group of children, waiting for someone to notice him. Sam was usually the first, they'd start playing. Running all over the village as their parents did business around the village. Dean would chase after them, making sure that they got back all in one piece.

Sam had known Loki for years, but he didn't know a lot about him. Sam had only gotten vague answers when he asked Loki where he lived. Sam didn't even dare to ask why he had such an odd name like Loki, Dean had made fun of him for it for one afternoon, Loki had taken him away from the rest of the kids, going behind a building. When they got back Loki looked smug, Dean had looked sick. Sam had tried asking him about what Loki had done, but Dean had only shuddered and told Sam to leave it alone.

Despite all that, they had grown to be good friends. When Loki turned sixteen Naomi stopped coming to the village, leaving him to do the work of trading in the village. The few hours he had spent in town turned into whole days. Loki always left just before dusk, waving to Sam as he left, with a bag full of supplies over his shoulder.

"It's because he'd loom over the doorway until we let him come in, you lack a certain looming quality, my friend," Jo joked as Loki walked further into the bar.

"I guess all of us can't be giants," Loki said as he sat on a stool. He looked tired, dark circles sat heavily under his eyes. His smile didn't come as quickly or easily as it usually did.

Sam stared at Loki while he chatted with Jo, something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It nagged at the back of his mind, telling him to ask Loki if he was all right, but years of avoiding questions he wouldn't get answers too was hard to ignore. Sam pushed the feeling away, disregarding the way it tried to sink its claws into his mind, to drag itself back to the forefront of his mind.

Ellen came back in with Sam's canvas bag, it was now filled with clean laundry.

"Here," she said, handing it to him over the bar. "Better get the rest of your things before the shops shut down, don't linger in town when you're needed home." She glared at him until he went around the bar to give her a hug.

"I'll drag Dean down here as soon as I can," Sam promised. Jo muttered a "You better," as he pulled her into a hug.

He clapped Loki on the back as he shouldered his bag.

"See ya around Sammy," Loki grinned up at Sam. It seemed kind of forced, but Sam decided then and there not to pry. They had a friendship built on jokes and not asking to many questions, to start asking them now would be just too little too late.

"Yeah, see you."

_He could remember it like it was yesterday. _

_ Naomi had crouched down to his level, he kind of hated her for it, the only thing worse than an adult that uses their height to tower over you, was an adult who tried to look at you from your level._

_ "I have a question for you," Naomi had said seriously. She had always spoken seriously, like everything she said was the most important thing you were going to hear. "Do you want to come to the village with me?"_

_ The village. The place he had always wanted to see, the place adults talked about, the place filled with people he hadn't spent his whole life around._

_ "Why?" he had asked._

_ "Because," Naomi had paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Because one day I won't be here, and someone needs to make sure we get what we need."_

_ "Can I be choose a name?" He'd tried to hide his excitement, he bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. _

_ "You already have a name, why would you want a different one?" Her mouth had pulled down into a familiar frown. He didn't think he had ever seen her smile._

_ "Because, I'll be around the humans, it will help me remember that," it had been perfectly sound reasoning to him. Naomi had sighed though, her patience wearing thin._

_ "All right, what name would you like?" she had asked finally, her voice tired. He had thought for a moment, thinking back to what his sister Anna had told him that morning, they had been reading books together._

_ "Loki, I wanna be Loki," he said it as soon as the thought had entered his mind. Naomi blinked, surprise crossing her face._

_ "Why would you want to be called that?" Her eyebrows had knit together._

_ "Because he tricks people," he had reasoned. "I'm gonna be lying to the humans, and that's the same as tricking, right?" Naomi had nodded. "It'll tell me that I'm lying to them, and they won't ever know about it!" He had laughed at that, loud peals of it bringing a smile small onto Naomi's face._

_ "I guess I can't argue with that," she had stood then. "We'll be heading to the village tomorrow morning, be ready by the time I come for you." He had nodded, she left and he ran back to his siblings. He couldn't wait to tell them about his new job._

_ Loki sometimes felt bad about lying to his friends. It couldn't be helped though, it was a necessary evil. If they knew what he was, what his family was, they would be locked up and sent around the world in freak shows. _

_ Between picking his friends or his family, he always would choose family. Could you blame him for doing that?_

* * *

A/N

Yay! Another character you have to watch out for!

This chapter was fairly quick to write up, (okay, it was mostly done already, I just had to edit it a bit.) So that was nice, and also the reason for such a quick update.

Thanks again to everyone who left a review, (Oh my gosh you guys, I've had this compared to a book I've never read and I was called a captain, I'm a CAPTAIN!) Sorry, rant over.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

Okay, at this point I feel the need to explain exactly when and where this fic is taking place. It takes place on an island I made up, (which was kinda obvious now that I think about it) and it's taking place in modern times, I plan on explaining some things later in the fic, but for now all you need to know, is that pretty much all the good books have been written in this verse, and all the good bands have gotten together. That make sense? No? Well than this is never going to make sense to you. Sorry about that.

* * *

Castiel's neck was stiff, his foot was asleep, and his stitches were itchy. He was tired of sitting on this bed, even though it was the most comfortable thing he had ever laid on. Castiel had been awake for half an hour, and he was already sick of this room.

He could hear Dean moving around outside of the room, muttering curses as something clanged on the floor.

Castiel stared at the ceiling, glaring at it like it was the cause of all his problems. Castiel sniffed the air as something wafted into the room through the open door. It was good, his stomach growled as the scent lingered in the air. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the headboard.

Castiel was tired, but not in the way that made him want to sleep. It was a bone deep ache that kept him conscious. Every time he felt himself slip towards sleep it would pull him back, keeping him awake and aware of the situation he was in. Castiel didn't want to sleep anyway, he had spent to long sleeping. If he went to sleep now he would once again be at the mercy of strangers.

Not to say that he wasn't now, with his leg in a splint and his torso being held together by threads. While he was awake he could at least fight them off, he had a chance to make his wishes known. While he was awake he could make sure that they wouldn't find him out.

A throat cleared in the doorway. Castiel opened his eyes to see Dean leaning against the doorjamb.

"You're gonna have to move, I need to change the sheets. While you're up you can eat, if you want." He didn't move into the room, waiting for Castiel to speak, to invite him in.

"Oh," Castiel stood still for a moment before he inched forward, pushing himself along the bed using just his hands, he ignored the tug he felt the action cause in his stitches.

"Whoa there," Dean rushed into the room, stopping Castiel in his tracks. "I can help you." Castiel froze, his eyes widening as he looked at Dean. "Or not, I'm just trying to help. You need to keep your weight off your leg." He fell silent, waiting to see what Castiel would decide.

Castiel sighed, it was probably the only way he would get to eat whatever Dean had made, and he couldn't think of any reason not to let Dean help him. Besides, accepting his help did not mean trust.

He nodded once, a quick jerk of the head. Dean reached for him, scooping Castiel up in his arms, legs held up in one arm, and his back cradled against the other. Castiel let a quiet whoosh of breathe out in surprise. He hadn't been carried anywhere since he was young, it was an odd experience now, unfamiliar and only slightly unwanted.

Castiel held himself stiffly in Dean's arms, not wanting to get comfortable. Dean was an odd mix of hardened arms and gentle hands. Dean's arms were strong, hardened by years of work. His hands were gentle with Castiel, barely putting pressure on the places that hurt the most. Dean smelled like wood smoke and wind, Castiel decided to ignore how much he liked the scent. Castiel kept his arms to himself, not wrapping them around Dean's neck, even though it would make the walk from the bedroom easier for them both.

Castiel didn't know what he expected, certainly not this. The room was large, one end looked like it was used as a kitchen, the other as a living room. A worn couch sat against the wall, with a table covered with books in front of it. An old record player sat in the corner. The smell was stronger here, it was coming from a pot that sat on the stove, with steam billowing out of it.

Dean set Castiel on the couch, stretching his leg out on the couch, telling him to help himself to any of the books. He left him sitting there to head back to the bedroom. Castiel eyed the pile of books, a few of them were face down on the table.

He picked a book up and began reading at a random page. Dean came back in after a few minutes, his arms full of sheets.

"I should have gotten these before Sammy left," he said. He opened a door leading to a bathroom, and dumped them in a hamper. He turned to see Castiel staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Castiel turned back to his book. He could hear Dean moving around in the kitchen, but he kept his eyes trained on the book.

"Here." Castiel looked up to see Dean holding a bowl for him. The source of the smell had been identified. It was soup, steaming red soup with rice floating in it. It smelled heavenly.

Castiel's stomach growled, he would have felt embarrassed if he hadn't been so hungry. He took the bowl with a quiet thanks. Dean sat down on the floor, moving books around on the table and placing his own bowl on it. He waited for Castiel to start eating before he dug in.

Castiel made a small moan as the first spoonful flowed past his tongue. The smell had been good, great even, but the taste was so much better. Dean smiled.

"I thought you might like it, I always make it for Sammy when he gets sick." He shoveled a few more spoonful's in his mouth before he noticed Castiel staring. "What?"

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel set the bowl down on his lap, feeling the warmth from the soup seep through the bowl and his pants, warming his legs as it rested there.

"Why wouldn't I make you lunch? I was hungry, I figured you were hungry." Dean set his spoon back in the bowl.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Castiel glared at him.

"Fine, I know it, but that doesn't mean I have to answer it." Dean glared back at him. Castiel sighed, he started eating again, Dean could practically feel the anger Castiel was radiating.

They spent the next few moments in silence.

"What happened to you?" Dean asked, Bobby had always said that he couldn't keep his trap shut, the man knew Dean well.

"I, I don't know." The lie didn't sit well on Castiel's tongue, it weighed it down and brought a red tinge to his ears.

"How 'bout we make a deal," Dean pointed his spoon at Castiel. "When you tell me what happened, I'll tell you why I did it, deal?" Castiel nodded quickly. "Good, you done Cas?" He grabbed Castiel's bowl without waiting for an answer

Castiel watched Dean as he put the bowls in the sink. He had been surprised by the nickname, only two people had ever felt the need to give him one, and they had known him for his entire life. Dean had known him for barely a week before he had decided to give him one. Dean was something else, Castiel thought.

"So, what were you reading?" Dean asked as he came back. He sat down on the floor again.

"I think it was called The Hobbit." Castiel tried to pick it out among the pile, but it was lost among the books.

"You think? How can you think it was The Hobbit?" Dean scrunched his nose up, he tried not to judge Castiel too harshly, but come on, how can you not know if it was a Tolkien book?

"I only glanced at the cover, I gathered that it was about a hobbit," Castiel leaned forward, grasping the book in question. Yes, he had been right about the title. He had been intrigued by the few pages he had gotten to read.

"Are you telling me," Dean started, he took a deep breath. "Are you telling me that you've never read it before?" Castiel nodded. "I don't know how to respond to that," said Dean quietly.

"I'm sorry?" What was so bad about not reading a book? Was this some sort of test?

"When you said you had a secluded childhood I didn't think it would be this bad." Dean shook his head. "While you're stuck here you are going to read it, and any other Tolkien you can squeeze in."

Castiel nodded, it seemed like an easy thing to promise. They talked for a long time, Dean figuring out what Castiel had read, a lot of old myths it seemed, nothing that was published in the past hundred years though.

"How old are you?" Dean asked at one point, they had been talking about favorite foods, Dean had a penchant for pie and burgers, Castiel liked fish. One day Dean would get Castiel to explain the smile he'd had on his face as he said it.

"I'm twenty-two," Castiel had said after a moment's thought, he had had to think about it. It had been a while since he had thought about birthdates. "How old are you?" He shot back. Dean smirked, this was the most he had talked to someone new in a long time. Most people he knew had lived on the island for years, mainlanders didn't often come to live there.

"Twenty-four, Sammy's twenty. You wouldn't know it by looking at him though, he has this baby face," Dean said.

"You seem a bit young to be living here all alone." Dean stilled at Castiel's words. "I'm sorry, that was out of line," he backtracked.

"It's fine," Dean said. He didn't look Castiel in the face. "We are a bit young," he agreed. He didn't say anything more, Castiel didn't ask about it after that. Asking questions would mean that Dean could ask him questions, and Castiel had a lot of things he had to keep secret.

They moved on, Dean started giving Castiel book recommendations. The list growing much longer than he would be able to read while he stayed there, Castiel tried not to think about never finding his skin. He would find it, he had to.

As the afternoon bled into evening, Castiel found that he had trouble opening his eye after each blink. Dean noticed after the fifth time he had needed to repeat himself to Castiel.

"You wanna move back to the bedroom?" he asked Castiel. The man in question jerked up, having almost fallen asleep again.

"No, if it's all right with you, I'd rather not move just yet." Dean nodded, he picked up a book and started reading, he heard Castiel's breathe even out and deepen. This was the first really peaceful sleep he had got since being found on the beach, Dean didn't think a drugged sleep counted.

_Fingers carded themselves gently through his hair, Castiel leaned into the touch, sighing when they left his head. Opening his eyes he looked at the sky. Blue, not a single cloud in sight, this was a perfect day to be human._

_ "Time to wake up Cassie," a voice said brightly above him. Castiel shifted, Anna was there, her red hair shining in the sunlight._

_ "How long was I asleep?" His voice was thick from sleep, he cleared it._

_ "Long enough," Anna smiled. "So, what do you think of him?" Castiel sat up, feeling grains of sand stick to his bare skin._

_ "Think of who?" Castiel took in Anna's appearance, her hair was perfectly dry, it curled in small tangles around her face. Her skin was wrapped around her slim shoulders, shielding her from the midday sun._

_ "Of Raphael," Anna's smile brightened. "Do you think he'll try and challenge Michael?" She was talking about the member of their settlement. Raphael had just showed up on the island one day, telling everyone who would listen about how the humans had killed his family. Michael had put a stop to it as soon as he found out._

_ "Anna, that's not something you should joke about." Castiel leaned away from her, staring as her smile fell from her face._

_ "I know it isn't, but it helps if I think of it as a joke." She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them close to her chest. It would not be a good thing for anyone if Raphael took over, he would kill all everyone who had followed Michael, which included Castiel and Anna._

_ "He won't challenge Michael," Castiel said. He had said it many times before, but he needed to keep reminding himself of it._

_ "Of course he won't, he'd be crazy too," Anna agreed. "Come on, let's swim." Castiel grinned, he watched as Anna ran to the water. She walked in until the water hit her waist, the skin floating on top of it as she changed. She dipped below the waves, when she came up next she was farther out. Anna nodded her head as if to say 'Get a move on.'_

_ Castiel stood, the skin that he held around him fell the rest of the way to the ground. He walked to the water's edge, no matter how warm the day was, the sea would be cold. Taking a deep breath he stepped into the icy water._

_ He walked to the point where Anna had changed. Centering himself, he shifted. If someone had asked what it felt like, Castiel would have found it very hard to explain. Anna would say that it felt like walking into a beam of warm sunlight after walking in the dark. Gabriel would say that it didn't feel like anything, one second you would be walking on two legs, the next you wouldn't even have legs._

_ Castiel agreed with Anna up to a certain point, it did feel a bit like warm sunlight. He also thought that it felt like stretching, like raising your arms high above your head until you heard a crack. It hurt for less than a second, but once done you felt better. Once he shifted into his seal skin he felt freer in this skin. Like it was the one he was meant to spend a lifetime in._


	7. Chapter 7

Sam opened the door loudly, letting the hinges creak as they went. The knob banged against the wall as he walked through. He caught Dean's glare as he set the bags down on the floor. Sam shot his brother a 'what?' face. Dean nodded to the couch, and the sleeping man slumped on it.

Castiel had his head thrown back, his mouth open and his throat exposed. He had a blanket covering his legs, one of them dangled over the edge of the couch.

Sorry, Sam mouthed.

Dean snorted softly and went back to reading his book. Sam walked over to Dean, leaving the bags on the ground by the door. Tapping Dean's shoulder he nodded towards the back of the cabin, asking Dean to follow him. They went back far enough that Castiel wouldn't wake if they spoke above a whisper before Sam started talking.

"How'd today go?" Sam asked. He had been surprised to see Castiel out of Dean's bedroom. He had thought that Castiel would stay there until he was healed.

"It was nice, we talked about books. You'd be proud Sammy, he hasn't even read any of my trashy books," Dean joked. Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised at Dean's words. What with Castiel being afraid when they even touched him, he hadn't thought that he would do much talking, let alone let Dean carry him out of the room.

"Did he tell you what happened to him?"

"No, he told me he didn't remember." Dean sighed, and leaned against the wall as he shook his head. "He's a terrible liar, worse than you even."

"Hey! You still don't know what happened to your favorite shirt," Sam protested.

"You said that Ellen's machine ate it." Dean leveled a glare at Sam, watching the younger man sweat.

"Yeah, that is what happened." Sam looked away from Dean, unable to hold his gaze. Dean shook his head, but let it go. He would bring it up another time.

"Hey," he started, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "While in the village, did you happen to see-''

"No," Sam cut him off. "I didn't see her." Dean nodded, keeping his face a blank mask as he felt Sam's eyes on him. "I asked Ellen about it when I left. Ellen said that she left last week, I'm sorry Dean."

"No, it's fine. She wanted to leave, I understand that." It was her decision, he couldn't stop her if he wanted to, and he wouldn't even dare try.

"Dean, why don't you go to bed, it's late. I can put away the things from the village, and the rest can wait until tomorrow." Sam watched his brother, watched him as he slowly clenched and unclenched his jaw while keeping his eyes on the ground.

"I need to check on Cas first."

"I can check on him, you go to bed." Sam stopped Dean from heading back to the living room, he pushed Dean back, towards his bedroom. "Go, get some sleep, you can' stop worrying for a few minutes at least."

"Fine, but I want you to know that I resent this," Dean grumbled.

"I'll be sure to remember that for next time," Sam shot back.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean closed the door to his room, he hadn't been in here since he changed the sheets in the afternoon. He hadn't needed to come in here, especially since Castiel was in the front room on the couch.

He almost fell on his bed, he hadn't realized he had grown so tired. Watching over someone was hard, Dean had known that since he was a kid. He had watched over Sam whenever his Dad had gone fishing alone, which was more often than he would admit when Bobby asked him. Their father went away for days on end, sometimes not coming back for a week or more. So, Dean made sure Sammy got what he needed, and when his Dad came back, he would take care of him as well. Getting him what he needed, helping him repair the boat, gutting the fish.

It was hard work, but it was something that needed doing, and Dean knew that if he didn't do it than it wouldn't get done.

Dean buried his head deeper into the pillow, sighing into it as he relaxed. It took him ten minutes to remember that he was still fully dressed, it took another five to decide that he didn't care. He was just too comfortable right now. It had been over a week since he had slept lying down, there was no way he was getting up to change now.

Dean slept later than he had in years, he woke to clanging sounds and voices found their way to his room as he drifted out of dreams, he had been having a nice one, involving dark hair and nice smiles. It took a moment to register what he was hearing.

Please don't let Sammy be cooking again, was his first thought. He heard Sam speaking to someone else, they answered in a deep voice that Dean recognized almost instantly.

Oh god, please don't let Sam feed Cas, was Dean's second thought of the day.

He jumped out of bed, and tripped over the blanket he had kicked off in his sleep. The voices outside his room were quiet as he groaned. This is what he gets for sleeping later than five a.m.

Dean walked into the front of the cabin at a more sedate pace, rubbing his forehead where it had met the ground. Sam and Castiel looked at Dean as he paused in the hall, Castiel sat on the couch, the blanket still over his legs, Sam stood in the kitchen a pot in each hand. A grin spread over Sam's face, he shot a look at Castiel as he set the pots on the counter.

"See, I told you if I just banged these around that Dean would come running." Dean glared at Sam. It had been a trick, something to get him up and out of bed. Dean planned on making Sam pay for this, he would regret the day he crossed his older brother.

"I never said that I didn't believe you," Castiel told Sam. He nodded towards Dean in greeting.

"You had a look," Sam moved aside as Dean grabbed one of the pots and opened a cupboard to look for the makings for breakfast.

"I did not have a 'look'" Castiel glared at Sam as he moved into the living room. Dean went about making oatmeal, listening to Sam tease Castiel in the living room. He didn't think that Castiel realized what was going on, with every word that Sam coaxed out of him Sam would learn just a little more, storing it in the file he had in his brain labeled 'Castiel'. Few people recognized it was happening while talking with him, Dean had only met one person who had known Sam was doing it.

Meg had been an intuitive person, she had answered Sam's questions and teasing with just the right answers to make him confused. To this day Sam wasn't sure what to make of her.

"I don't see why having a 'look' is so bad, you have a look right now," Castiel pointed at Sam while he said that. Sam grinned as he leaned forward on the book covered table.

"Yeah, but this isn't the same look that you had when I told you that Dean would do anything to keep me from cooking," Sam explained patiently. Dean glanced over at them, Castiel looked like he wanted to punch Sam in the face, and Sam looked like he was having way too much fun pushing Castiel's buttons. If Dean didn't put a stop to this soon, Castiel would end up needing a new splint for his leg. Dean turned the heat off on the stove, he poured the steaming breakfast into three bowls.

"Sam, if you don't come over here and get your breakfast I will eat it for you." He kept his eyes on the bowls in front of him, but he could hear Sam scrabbling along the floor in his hurry to get up. Sam had learned long ago that Dean didn't make idle threats when food was involved.

Dean walked over to the couch and handed Castiel one of the steaming bowls, keeping one himself he sat down on the floor. He had splurged today and put brown sugar in the oatmeal, and he could smell it as the steam rose in the air. Sam sat down next to him and moaned when he took the first bite.

"Oh my god, Dean," he said as his eyes went back in their sockets. Castiel watched Sam's display with apprehension. Dean ignored it completely, having seen more than enough of these theatrics in his lifetime.

They ate in almost silence, Sam occasionally making some noises of appreciation as he ate, Castiel made a few of his own. When they were done eating Sam took the bowls and set them on a counter in the kitchen. He turned back towards the living room, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

"All right Castiel, you want to tell us what happened to you?"

_Castiel is thrown against the wall, his head bouncing against it, making sparks dance around in his head. An arm was pushed against his throat, cutting off his airway. Anna was screaming, yelling his name as Raphael held him in place._

_ "It's about time someone put you in your place," he growled, his face close to Castiel's. Castiel clawed his fingers along Raphael's arm, trying to get him to let go, trying to get air, trying to breath._

_ "Let him go!" Anna screamed, her red hair swinging as she pulled at Raphael. Castiel knew she was strong, he had lost enough fights with her to know that. But Raphael was an unmovable force, once he was where he wanted to be no one could move him, Michael being the only known exception._

_ "Anna, I think that Castiel and I need some time alone." Raphael turned his gaze to her, his voice was soft, his voice never raising above the quiet undertone that people associated him with. All the while Castiel gasped against the wall, his vision was darkening along the edges. He needed to breathe, he needed air._

_ While underwater, Castiel knew how much time he had until he needed air once more, in his human form he could hold it for longer than normal human beings, but not for much longer. Not with the added stress and panic of being choked. Already he could feel his hands weakening._

_ "Let him go, Raphael." Castiel could see Anna turn towards the voice, the one they hadn't expected, the one they had never been so grateful to hear._

_ "Michael, a pleasure to see you," Raphael said, his arm still held tight over Castiel's throat. He didn't even turn his head to look at Michael._

_ "I said, let Castiel go." Michael moved in the room, he grabbed Raphael's shoulder and pulled him away from Castiel. Raphael went with him easily, he had given up the entire situation the moment that Michael had stepped into the room._

_ Castiel fell to the floor, gasping for breath, Anna crouched over him. Making sure he was all right before she glared up at Raphael. Raphael, for his part, looked down on them with disinterest. Michael still held a hand on his shoulder, his knuckles turning white with the pressure of his grip._

_ "I think Castiel has learned his lesson," Raphael said smoothly, like he was discussing the weather._

_ "And what lesson would that be?" Michael's voice shook, anger seeping into every word he spoke._

_ "That he is nothing more than a bug on the ground, something I can destroy at any time." Raphael turned and left, leaving Castiel coughing on the ground, Anna and Michael glaring at his back as he left._

_ Anna rubbed soothing circles along Castiel's back, making shhing noises whenever it got worse. Michael crouched down next to him. Balancing on the balls of his feet while he waited for Castiel's breathe to return._

_ "Raphael's a bastard," was the first thing Castiel said when he finally had the breath, borrowing a phrase that Gabriel was quite taken with. _

_ "You shouldn't have provoked him like that, Cassie. He could have killed you if Michael hadn't been here." Anna looked like she wanted to hit him, the only thing stopping her was the fact that Castiel had just been choked._

_ "I didn't know he would react that way, it was his own fault for challenging Michael again, and losing, again." It hurt to talk, his voice scraped along the beaten insides of his throat. He winced as he spoke, earning a concerned look from Anna._

_ "Castiel," Michael began, gaining both his and Anna's attention easily. "You cannot provoke him, it will be bad enough for you if he does win against me one day, and he will not be as merciful as I am." Anna gulped audibly, her hand found Castiel's, she gripped it tight. "He will kill me, which would be within his rights as the victor. He would also punish you two for being so loyal to me. Raphael will kill you if you continue to do this."_

_ Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but Michael stopped him with a raised hand. "Do I make myself clear, Castiel?" Castiel nodded, Michael had been very clear. "Good, I want you to rest for now, and please, stay out of trouble." _

_ Michael left Castiel and Anna there, sitting on the floor in an empty room. They sat in silence for a long time._

* * *

A/N

Hey look, plot! A very plotty plot!

Or at least a sort of plot, but that's the kinda plot I like. So anyways, excuse time.

I've been busy, so I haven't been able to write this down for a while, and I visited my grandma, a sweet old gal. So I'm sorry this took a while to post.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! And remember kids, reviews keep me fed and slightly more sane! So leaving them is nice, very nice.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel froze, Sam just stared at him while he waited for Castiel to speak. Dean shot a look at Sam before settling his gaze onto Castiel. Castiel's mind raced, he had to think of something, something that they would believe, and something that he could lie about. Something, anything.

Gabriel had always told Castiel that if he needed to lie, to make it as close to the truth as possible.

"If you believe the lie, then they'll believe it too," Gabriel had told Castiel. It had been the summer before Castiel had grown taller than his older brother; Gabriel had leaned down so that he had been eye level with Castiel. Making his usually playful tone serious, he taught Castiel how to lie. Telling him the best ways to get around telling someone the truth, although it didn't work often for Castiel, he would at least do better than he had before.

"I was fishing with my brother," Castiel began. It was the truth, he was able to say it without revealing anything or sounding like he was lying. "Something attacked me while we were out, I don't know what it was." Also the truth, Sam nodded, seeming to accept his answer.

"Where'd your brother get to?" Dean asked him. There it is, the question that Castiel had been asking himself, the one with an answer he almost didn't want to know. Where had Gabriel gotten too? Had he gotten away while Castiel had swam to shore? Or had whatever it was that attacked Castiel killed Gabriel?

"I don't know," Castiel said quietly, he looked at his hands. Clenching and unclenching them in his lap. He didn't bother to look up at Sam and Dean. He could almost hear them raising their eyebrows at each other.

A hand was laid on his shoulder, its weight pushing down heavily on it.

"I'm sorry," Dean's voice was soft. His voice was barely above a whisper. Castiel nodded, looking up he saw Sam standing behind Dean, his eyes soft and his mouth turned down in a frown.

Dean looked at him with understanding, Castiel suspected that Dean knew what it was like not to know if your family was okay, he knew what it felt not to know whether or not your family had survived the night.

"I'm sorry, I understand if you don't want to talk about it anymore," Sam said. He looked guiltily at Castiel, like he regretted even beginning this entire conversation. "I didn't mean to sound like I'm interrogating you, it's just we don't know anything about you. Hell, we don't even know your last name!"

"I don't have a last name," Castiel said simply. He had never had need of a last name, no one he knew had one. They were all one family, why would they need names to separate themselves from the rest.

Dean looked at him oddly, a half amused and half 'What Kind Of Crazy Are You?' look on his face. He shook his head, deciding that that particular conversation could wait. For now at least.

"You want me to check your stitches today?" Smooth change of subject there, Winchester, Dean thought. He could tell that Sam wasn't quite happy with him for doing that, but Sam would have to live with it. Castiel wasn't going to say anything more right now, he was avoiding Dean's gaze, looking anywhere, at anything, but Dean. Castiel nodded, sitting up a little straighter so that Dean could unravel the gauze more easily.

As Dean rolled the gauze away from Castiel's skin, he began to notice something odd. The wounds, the horrifying rips in Castiel's skin, were fading. Dean hadn't checked them in a few days, but they should not be the faded pink that they were, they should still be healing at this point, not looking like they were healed and slowly turning into scars. Sam looked over Dean's shoulder, eyeing the stitches that still were in place in Castiel's skin.

Dean looked at Sam, giving his brother the 'We'll Talk About It Later' look. Sam pursed his lips, but nodded. He would go with Dean's best judgment on this, but he would make sure he had his answers, one way or another.

"Could you get me the scissors, Sammy?" Dean asked, turning his eyes back to Castiel's chest. Sam got the scissors, pressing them into Dean's outstretched hand. Dean began snipping the threads carefully, Sam fidgeted in the background until Dean told him to 'Either stand still or get out, you're making me nervous.' Sam glared at him, but he left the room in a huff. Stomping out of the cabin, he would probably head straight to his work shed, and work on some of the commissions that had backed up while he had helped with Castiel.

"All right, now that Mr. Shouty has left, you are going to tell me what the hell is going on." Dean snipped another thread, Castiel watched his hands work with the scissors. "And I don't want to hear your excuses." Dean looked up at Castiel then, green eyes flashing under his lashes. Castiel swallowed.

Sam's questions had made him want to lie, they had made Castiel want to bury their ears in lies. It had brought out an almost violent reaction to protect his family, his sisters, his brothers. Castiel had told lies before, but they had never been about something as important as this, and Castiel had lied to keep his secret, by omission if not the actual act.

Now Dean was asking him straight out, whether or not Dean knew it, he was asking Castiel to betray his family and tell his secrets. There was no way that Dean would let Castiel keep quiet, Castiel wasn't healed enough to walk back to his encampment, and he didn't have his skin, so he couldn't go back to the sea. He needed Dean to help him, if he was ever going to be able to escape this form.

"You gonna stare at me all day, or are you going to tell me the truth for once," Dean glared at him. He set the scissors aside as he pulled the last bit of string from Castiel's flesh. The rips and tears and healed together in long lines across his skin, bumps forming small mountain lines over his chest, going down across the pale skin of his stomach. Dean was still surprised that Castiel had even survived that, every time he looked at the new scars he felt his stomach tighten and sink.

Castiel swallowed, he found it hard to work his mouth just then. There had never been a time when a human had known what he was, or at least, there had never been a time when he had told a human what he was. There was that girl from long ago, the one who had hidden on the beach while he had changed forms. That wasn't the same though, Castiel had not needed to say anything then. It had all been out in the open back then. It was so much harder now.

Dean waited, somewhat impatiently. He could feel that Castiel was about to break, it would happen any second now.

"I'm not human," Castiel said in a quiet rush. In one split second decision he had told his biggest secret to someone he barely knew. Castiel hoped this wouldn't ruin everything for his family, this could break them. This could be the single act that brought the humans down on them.

Oh, that had been unexpected. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. Castiel was human. He had to be, if he wasn't human there would be some sort of sign. Something marking him as 'Other' as 'Not Right' something that Dean would have noticed before now. Castiel waited for him to say something.

"You're lying." It was stupid, Castiel was such a terrible liar, but there was no way he was telling the truth now. It had all been an act, something to make Dean think he was crazy.

Castiel frowned, he glowered at Dean. "No, I am not. I am not human." Dean began shaking his head. "You ask for the truth, but refuse to believe it when you hear it."

"If you weren't human there would be a sign!" Dean stood up, he paced along the floor shaking his head.

Castiel stood, he walked towards Dean, stopping right in front of the agitated man. "I. Am. Not. Human." He made each word its own sentence, hoping to push it through Dean's skull. Castiel didn't even think about his actions, he didn't bother thinking of the repercussions this might have. Dean had asked for the truth, and by god Castiel was going to give it to him.

Dean stood stock still, mouth hanging open. "Cas," he swallowed, letting his eyes go slowly down from Castiel's face, widening as he stared at Castiel's legs. "Cas, your leg is supposed to be broken." Dean's eyes flicked up to his face, his wide eyes filled with something that Castiel couldn't find a name for, something he wasn't sure he liked.

It took Castiel a moment, but he thought he had figured out what it was.

Fear.

Dean was afraid of him.

"What are you?"

_Gabriel was walking along a beach, one of many on the island. This one was more isolated than the others, the rocks surrounding it kept the fishers at bay. Except for one it seemed. It was a nimble craft, small and sleek. A beauty if Gabriel had ever seen one._

_ He was looking for his brother, lost for over a week. Most of his family had given up hope, deciding that he was dead, or better off as. Anna had already begun speaking about him in past tense._

_ 'Remember how Castiel like….'_

_ 'Wasn't it cute when Castiel….'_

_ 'Didn't Castiel use to….'_

_ It churned his stomach to think of him that way. Castiel was a fast swimmer, almost as fast as Gabriel. He had beaten Anna in the last race they had had. Something Anna had refused to admit had happened. There had been witnesses though, otherwise nobody would have believed Castiel when he had boasted about it._

_ Gabriel smiled at the memory. Castiel had grinned wider and brighter than he had in years. Something Gabriel wished he had done more often. _

_ He had to believe that Castiel was still alive. He was smart, he would be able to find some way to survive. Gabriel chanted that in his mind. It went round and round in his head. _

_ Cassie was okay. Cassie was okay. He didn't die. He found a way._

_ It was slowly becoming obvious to Gabriel that he was on a fool's errand, if Castiel had survived, and that was a very big if, he would have found some way to send word to someone. He would have found a way to tell Gabriel. It had been over a week and Gabriel still hadn't heard anything about him._

_ As much as Gabriel tried to keep thinking that Castiel was alive, he was starting to doubt it. And that was unforgivable. If Gabriel let Castiel die in peace, if he let Castiel disappear from his life, Gabriel didn't know what he would do. Castiel was his little brother, the one he had taught to fish, the one who had helped him hide from Michael when he had done something extremely stupid._

_ He was the one who had pushed Gabriel out of the way so that the thing would attack him, and not Gabriel._

_ Gabriel turned his back on the mainland, facing the sea before him. He was searching all the areas that Castiel could have gotten to, where he could have gotten onto land and been safe from the thing. It had to have been somewhere close by, otherwise he would have bled out before he had even touched the shore._

_ Gabriel sighed, he wasn't here. He probably had never even set foot on this beach. The boat would have warned him away._

_ Gabriel slipped back into the water, changing shapes just before he ducked his head underneath the waves._

* * *

A/N

Did you really think I would kill Gabriel off? I could never do that! He is just so cute and adorable, with the way he kills Dean in that one episode. It just makes my heart go 'aaww'

Anyways, back on track. The Big Reveal. Now Dean knows Cas ain't quiet human, which you of course knew.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel watched as Dean's expression changed from shock and fear, to anger. He stepped back as Dean moved forward into his space. Gabriel had always told him to keep a careful distance from people, that it would give him more time to escape. That was something Castiel wasn't always the best at remembering, but in this moment it was at the forefront in his mind.

"Keep back, keep your cool. And for god's sake Cassie, don't say anything stupid." Gabriel had told him. That had been after a fight with Balthazar. Balthazar had walked away from that fight with a bloody nose, Castiel had gotten out of the fight mostly unscathed, just a few scrapes and bruises to his name.

Gabriel had pulled him to the side and taught him how to pick his fights. He taught him when to run away and when to stand and fight.

Castiel was trying to decide if this was a fight or flight situation when Dean finally spoke.

"You can't be real." His voice was flat, a deep growl that made Castiel's stomach drop. This is what real anger sounded like, not the tone that Gabriel used to mask his laughter, it wasn't the indignant sounds that Anna made. This was the sound you heard right before you were tossed around the room, it made Castiel's mind whirl back in time. He went back to time when he didn't know if he would make it through that night unharmed.

Castiel stepped back even farther, survival in the forefront of his mind now. He didn't trust this man before him, he had just started to feel the beginnings of trust, but it was all wiped away with the look in Dean's eyes.

Dean was angry, he was beyond pissed. He was mad at Castiel, he was mad at himself. He was even mad at Sammy, for god's sake! Dean was mad and he didn't know why.

Wait, no. He did know why. Dean was mad because this, _thing _standing before him had come inside his home and made him think he was something normal, that he was just some hurt buy on the beach needing help. Now, Dean didn't know what he was, or if he was even real.

Oh god, what if he wasn't real? What if Castiel was just a figment of his imagination? A product of too many days out in the hot sun, what if the last week hadn't even happened? That would make more sense than someone healing a broken bone in a week, and the fact that they claimed not to be human.

Dean glared at the man slowly backing away from him. This was all his fault. Whether or not he was real, he was the reason Dean was questioning his sanity. "You're not real," Dean growled. He watched Castiel flinch a little at the words. He tried to push away the guilt he felt about that.

Castiel breathe came in faster as Dean approached him, he could do this, it would be all right. Castiel didn't think that Dean would hurt him too badly, but his mind kept switching the scene before him to one from the past. One where he was also backed against the wall, and he was filled with an even worse fear.

Dean pushed him against the wall, hands pressing Castiel's shoulders back. Castiel felt real under his hands. Warm with hard bones and soft flesh, he looked real too, real and scared. Dean detached himself from the situation, he took a mental step back and saw what was going on.

Castiel was breathing fast, air hit Dean's face in quick gusts. His eyes were wide and fixed on Dean, but he didn't seem to be seeing him. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere bad by the looks of it. Dean snapped back into reality, he was still mad, there was no stopping the way his blood pounded in his ears or the way he wanted to hit something. But he did stop acting like it,

Dean had this one pure _'oh shit' _moment, a moment where he realized what he was doing and just stopped what he was doing. Dean realized that he didn't want to be the reason Castiel looked like he was about to pass out. He didn't want to be the man his father was.

"Cas, calm down," Dean said. He kept his hands on Castiel's shoulders, but he lessened the pressure on them. It took a few minutes, but Castiel finally flicked his eyes to Dean's, seeing him this time. Dean kept his face neutral as he asked, "You okay?" Castiel hesitated before he nodded. "Good, now I want you to explain everything."

Dean stepped back, only then realizing how close he had been to Castiel. He stood back as Castiel leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath, calming down some more before he moved to the couch. Dean sat down next to him, keeping a careful distance between them, he didn't want to scare Castiel again. Even if he did deserve it, Dean thought. He turned in his seat, waiting for Castiel to begin speaking.

Castiel fiddled with the splint that was still attached to his leg. He kept his eyes on it, he was not avoiding Dean's gaze, he was not avoiding Dean's gaze. Unlooping one of the knots he began speaking. "What do you want to know?"

"What are you?" Dean still wasn't sure if Castiel was real. Had Sammy even seen him? Or was he talking to Bobby right now about how crazy Dean had become? But he had decided to put that entire thought process on hold until a later date. He could decide if he was crazy when Sam was around to confirm that Castiel was real, until then though, he could at least learn about what he was.

"I am a selkie." Castiel looked up from his leg. He had gotten most of the knots undone. Bobby had always believed in knots that were almost impossible to untie. Dean had an eyebrow raised, a _and that is? _expression on his face. "We're closely related to shape shifters in a way." He spoke carefully, wary of the changes in Dean's mood, waiting for him to burst out in anger. It didn't come though, Dean sat there, his eyes fixed on Castiel, waiting for him to start speaking again.

"We, selkies, we live in the sea. I really was out fishing with my brother, just not in my human form." He paused, letting the words sink in. Dean didn't even blink.

"And what do you turn into?" Shape shifters, he was claiming to be a shape shifter. Like in those books that Jo bought from the mainland. He was claiming to be a creature that could change his shape. Dean was fairly sure he had kept his face blank, but his mind was reeling. This day had taken a turn for the worse, and it didn't look like it was going to get any better.

"Selkies turn into seals, I don't think any seal around this island is an actual animal," Castiel let a small smile flash across his face with that little bit of information. Trying to make it sound like a joke, it fell flat though.

How many times had Dean seen a seal around the island? How many times had there been a seal that had stolen his bait? And Castiel was telling him that it was all some sort of shape shifter? That was another thing he would think about later. The list was growing longer by the second.

"So, you can turn into this anytime you want?" Dean asked. Castiel had finally gotten the last knot undone, he set the sticks on the table before him, stretching his leg before him as he shook his head, he said. "No, I need my skin to be able to change."

"You're not really helping your case," Dean told him. Castiel cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Without proof, I don't know why I should even believe you." Castiel gestured to his now free and unbroken leg. "Okay, that just means you're not normal, but it doesn't mean you're not human."

"Without my skin there is nothing I can do to prove to you I am what I am," Castiel explained slowly. "I can't even go back to my family and tell them I'm alive."

"Why can't you just go back to your encampment or something? It can't be too far." Castiel started shaking his head before the words were out of Dean's mouth.

"I can't find my way there as a human, I only ever went there in my first skin, my seal skin." Castiel added the last part when he saw Dean's confused expression. "I also need it if I ever want to be in that form again."

Dean scoffed. "I don't see what's so good about being a seal, you're mostly blubber and you only eat fish."

Castiel glared at him, Dean could feel the heat of his anger as Castiel spoke to him. "I have always had two forms, I was not meant to live as only one being, as a thing that could not change its shape." Dean's mouth fell open slightly as Castiel continued speaking, as his voice rose with his anger. "I am something huge that has been squished and squeezed into this small container, I am not meant to stay like this. I am meant to be able to choose how I walk this Earth, and I am without that choice right now." Castiel's voice broke a little on the last word, he looked away from Dean then, looking instead at his hands.

Dean closed his mouth, swallowing he said. "I guess we better find your skin then."

_ Dean had been nine when his mom and dad went fishing together, he had finally been declared old enough for his mom to let him babysit Sam all alone. And he couldn't have been prouder._

_ Before that, Bobby had had to come over and watch them, but John had finally convinced Mary that it would be all right to leave them alone for an afternoon; they could enjoy fishing alone together, it would be just like old times._

_ John hadn't returned for three days._

_ Mary hadn't returned at all._

_ John would never tell Sam and Dean what had happened on that fishing trip, he had only told them that their mother was gone, that she would never be coming back, after that he would avoid the entire topic like the plague. Those three days he had gone missing had changed John. Gone was the man with laughter in his eyes, the man who would toss his sons in the air and play games with them. That man was gone, and in his place was a man that Dean didn't recognize._

_ John began teaching Dean how to fish, he wouldn't let Sam on the boat. He would sometimes send Dean out to fish all on his own, he wouldn't let Sam touch a fishing pole. John would leave for fishing trips that lasted days, sometimes stretching into weeks, leaving Sam and Dean all on their own. John pushed Dean to look after Sam, to watch over him and protect him from dangers that Dean didn't even see._

_ Dean was told not to question his father, that he was doing what was best for the whole family. Dean believed him, he believed him with all his heart. He didn't think to question his orders, he didn't think that it was wrong that his father was leaving him all alone with nothing but a few days' supply of food. _

_ He had been told to take care of his little brother, so that is what Dean did. Sam would always come first in his mind, as that is what his father had taught him. When it was John that made Sam afraid of the dark, it would be Dean to clean up his messes, it would be Dean who made Sam's meals for the day, who made sure that Sam did his school work. Something that John thought was a waste of time. _

_ It had been Bobby who taught Sam to carve, but it would be Dean who made sure that Sam always had wood to work on, it would be Dean who patched him up when the knife slipped in his hands._

_ And it would be Dean who finally told Bobby about John leaving them for days on end. It would be Dean who packed their things and carried them all the way into town so they could stay with Bobby until John showed his face again._

_ It was Dean who had been Sam's father after John had decided that he hadn't needed one._

* * *

A/N

I haven't updated in a few days, (new record) So here's a chapter just for you! And on Thanksgiving, isn't it great?

Happy Thanksgiving! Be sure to eat some pie for Dean!


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel was basking. Letting the sun warm him as he lay on the beach in his seal skin, he had stopped looking for Castiel for the moment, taking the time to just rest for one minute. Gabriel was on one of the beaches he had searched earlier, the boat was untouched where he had seen it before. He was starting to think that maybe it was abandoned.

Splashing came from behind him, turning his head, Gabriel saw Anna come on shore. She sloughed off her seal skin, standing as her legs grew underneath her. Red hair blew in the wind as she pushed the seal skin off her face. Wrapping her skin around her to guard her from the wind, she walked over to Gabriel.

"Are you going to change, brother?" Gabriel set his head back down, he shifted before Anna, as she waited patiently standing above him.

"What do you want?" he asked once he had the right voice to speak to her with. He sat up letting his skin fall back onto the beach.

"Are you going to give up this search? He's not coming back you know." Anna meant it kindly; she only ever meant to say things kindly. Always speaking in soft tones and offering help to those who she thought needed it. And telling people things they needed to hear, even if they didn't want to hear it.

It angered Gabriel, made him see red. Anna's kind words told him that she had already accepted that Castiel, their brother, was already dead. That was something that he couldn't just accept lightly and without proof.

"Anna, if you're trying to make me stop looking, you're going to have to leave now," Gabriel growled out. He glared up at her, at her blue eyes that were so much like Castiel's, at her speckled fur that was draped across her body in the way that Castiel wore his. How dare she even suggest that Gabriel stop looking for him, he was their brother, there was no way on Earth that Gabriel would stop looking for him. Not until he had a body to mourn over.

Anna took a step back from her brother. He had been looking for Castiel ever since the creature that had spilled Castiel's blood had fled into the depths of the water. She hadn't thought that Gabriel actually believed that Castiel was still alive. He had lost too much blood, he had been too far from their home. It just wasn't possible for him to survive that, even if he did make it to shore, and he had been able to shift forms, it just wasn't possible for Castiel to have survived without help.

"Gabriel, I'm only trying to be realistic." Anna knelt in the sand before her brother, she laid her hand on top of his. "I lost him too," her voice broke on the last word. Gabriel shook her hand off.

"Anna, I'm not ready to give up on him just yet." He turned away from her. "Just, please, just go." He sat there as he heard Anna walk away, as he heard her enter the water and as he heard her swim away.

"Dammit Cassie, where are you?"

* * *

Dean did not know how to break it to Sam, how could anyone tell their brother that the person they had stitched back up a few days ago was suddenly all healed, that the guy with a broken leg could now walk without crutches, and all he had was a slight limp.

_Hey Sam, y'know Cas, the guy I pulled off the beach a few days ago? Well it turns out he's some mythical creature and needs our help to find his skin._

Sam was going to kill him. And Dean wouldn't blame him if he did.

Castiel was sitting on the couch as Dean paced in front of him. Watching him get more worked up with each pass. Dean paused, he opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, started walking faster. He did this a few more times before he finally stopped.

"I just have to tell him now, get it all in the open and let him work it out on his own." Castiel sat up straight at Dean's words.

"I do not believe that he will believe me as quickly as you did."

"Nobody is gonna believe you as quickly as I did. But he can't argue with evidence right?" Dean asked quickly, he had done very well not to freak out earlier when Castiel had been telling him everything, but now he could feel the tendrils of it creeping under his skin. He needed to keep calm and think things through. Carefully.

"It would help if I had my skin, I could shift and show him. But without it there isn't anything I can do." Castiel shrugged his shoulders.

"Can't you cut yourself and heal fast?"

"No, I would rather not. I have no control over my healing ability, it could heal faster or heal at a normal rate, and it expends far too much energy to heal something than it is worth," Castiel explained.

"Of course," Dean griped. "That would be way too easy." Sighing he leaned against the wall. "He already suspects that you're not normal, he can't react to badly when you tell the truth, right?"

For once, Dean was right. Sam did not react badly to finding out that Castiel was not human. After ten minutes of yelling at both Castiel and Dean, which Dean thought was a bit unfair. He hadn't known that Castiel wasn't human, why did Sam have to lump Dean in with Castiel and yell at him? Sam was fascinated with Castiel, asking him questions, some of which Dean had already asked, some of which Dean had yet to even think of.

Castiel stopped Sam after a while, asking if he could see the spot where Dean had found him.

"Why do you want to see that?" Dean asked from his spot at the wall. Sam sat on the floor in front of Castiel, legs crossed and leaning forward, listening to Castiel speak.

"Because I haven't seen it, I don't know where I am on this island and if I know where I am I at least have an idea where my family is situated."

"Didn't you see where you landed when you washed up on the beach?" Dean asked.

"No, I was a bit distracted by the fact that I was ripped to pieces and bleeding out on the beach." Castiel rolled his eyes, Sam let out a snort but covered it quickly with a cough. Dean glared at his brother, he had been all worked up over telling him and Sam hadn't even tried to toss Castiel out of the cabin. Dean was a little disappointed that he hadn't seen Sam really get angry.

"Fine, if you can make it, I'll show you the beach."

Sam followed a little behind Dean and Castiel, letting Dean take the lead was an easy thing. The guy knew the quickest ways to get anywhere within fifteen miles of the cabin, but there had been another reason he let himself fall behind the group. Castiel.

Dean acted differently around Castiel, at least when Dean wasn't freaking out about Castiel being an honest to god selkie, something that Sam was having a little trouble wrapping his head around, even with all the evidence in front of him.

Dean stood straighter when talking with Castiel, his smiles came just a little easier when Castiel looked at him. It made Sam question a few things that he knew about Dean. Maybe he should stop insisting that he talk with Lisa.

Dean stopped at the head of the path down to the beach, it was a clear day with the sun shining down on the water, with barely a wind to be felt. He glanced over at Castiel.

"I found you down there," he pointed at the beach. Watching Castiel's eyes widen, Dean was shoved to the side as Castiel ran down the path.

Sam caught Dean as he stumbled. They watched as Castiel ran recklessly down the path, yelling "Gabriel!" as he stumbled on a rock, almost falling but regaining his balance quickly. Dean took off after him, leaving Sam standing at the top of the cliff for a moment before he chased after them.

* * *

Gabriel had sat in his human form on the beach for hours, the sun had stopped feeling warm long ago, but he didn't switch back.

"Gabriel!" The cry was faint, coming from above him. He turned around, looking up at the pathway he had seen the first time he had walked this beach.

_Castiel._

He had to be dreaming, there was no way that Castiel was running down that path in jeans and a plaid shirt. There was no way that he was being chased down it by Dean Winchester, there was no way that Castiel would let himself be within ten feet of any human.

Castiel stumbled off of the path, pebbles spraying as he slipped over them. He didn't stop though, he kept running at an open mouthed Gabriel.

Gabriel stood, not bothering to keep his skin wrapped around him. Castiel flung his arms around his older brother. He was solid and warm and _alive._ Gabriel wrapped his arms around his brother, shivering as a breeze decided to gust over them.

"Cassie, please tell me you're really here." Gabriel shut his eyes tight, holding back the tears he could feel pricking at the edges of his vision. It wasn't until this moment that he realized that he hadn't thought that Castiel would really be alive, that his brother had actually lived through the attack. He clung tighter to him.

"I am so glad you're okay," Castiel said. He pulled away from Gabriel, getting a better look at him. No fading scars to be seen. "It didn't go after you?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm too much of a badass to be hurt by that thing," Gabriel joked, his eyes raking over Castiel.

Dean and Sam had caught up to him, surprised that there had been another naked man on their beach in so many weeks. They stood in silence for a little bit, jaws working as they watched the scene unfold in front on them. Sam was the one who brought Castiel and Gabriel's attention back to the brothers.

Clearing his throat he asked, "Loki, why are you naked?"

* * *

Bobby set down the book he had been reading, instead of picking up one of the many open books before him, he picked up the cup of coffee that had long since grown cold. He winced at the taste. It had been out for longer than he had thought it had. Bobby looked at the table, there were several cups out with varying levels of cold coffee in them. He set down the coffee, deciding not to think about how old it probably was.

One of the things Bobby had always done well was research. He could figure out almost anything with enough time and plenty of books. It had been part of what he did on the mainland, it had been something he had let go once he left it.

Bobby had brought books with him when he had stepped on the boat, boxes and boxes of them, he bought more every time the boat came again. All the books on the table told him basically the same thing. That the man who had been lying on the floor of Sam and Dean's cabin should not exist, but Bobby had been there, he had set the man's leg and made a splint.

Bobby sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes he leaned forward on the table. He spared the seal skin a glance at where it was draped over a chair. Bobby had set it there when it had been in tatters, ripped apart so that Bobby couldn't think of a single thing he could use the thing for. Now it had slowly mended itself so that it resembled a seal, with holes still gaping all over the skin.

Bobby had first noticed the repairs two days ago, and he hadn't left his home ever since. He was determined to find out what that man was.

* * *

A/N

Wow, haven't updated in ages. Sorry 'bout that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I think the plot isn't to all over the place, but trust me, this will all make sense some way or another.


End file.
